With or Without You
by alanabloom
Summary: Latest in the Young Blood 'verse. Sequel to "Landslide". Piper and Alex at age 24.
1. Prologue

_Alex Vause is nine years old when she first sees Piper Chapman._

_It's her first day at a new school. She hates first days. Not because she misses her old class - what's to miss? More like because it's the same shit, at every place. And every single time, Alex has some brief, idiotic moment where she thinks maybe it'll be different._

_Not so much._

_This is her third elementary school. She's gotten pretty good at figuring out what most of the kids are going to be like. _ _Of course, it helps identify the Class Bitch when she basically announces herself by kicking Alex's desk forward and implying that she smells. _

_There's one in every _ _school. Alex hates this one - Jessica something - instantly. She can tell just by looking around the classroom which girls are friends with Jessica, and which ones just wish they are. About five girls fit into the former category...almost all the rest fit into the latter. _

_Except maybe that blonde girl in the overalls over the pink sweater. Her name's Piper - Alex finds that out when the teacher calls on her to read - and she keeps looking at Alex. Like, all day. But not like she's counting the duct tape covered holes in Alex's jacket or the patches on her jeans, not like she think it's funny, even though Piper is dressed like Jessica and everyone else, in her new, expensive looking clothes that fit perfectly. _

_A few times Alex thinks she's going to come talk to her - that's the kind of look it is, the look of someone who might want to say hi - but she never does._

_Not even on the bus, at the end of the day, after Jessica Wedge tries to hand Alex a freakin trash bag and it busts open on the sidewalk and she blames it on Alex meaning she may or may not have already gotten marked as a troublemaker at this dumb school. Not even after Alex walks to the nearest empty bus seat, and Piper's friend, the one who wants Jessica to like her so much it's pathetic, calls Alex Pigsty (because she's never heard _that_ one before, these kids are so original). Not even when Alex is sitting alone on the seat, grinding her teeth together and blinking back tears, hating this school and hating that things always have to be like this, and she can feel that blonde girl looking at her, she's even turned around in her bus seat to do it. She's staring like she feels sorry for Alex, and while Alex doesn't particularly like being pitied, it's at least better than the way everyone else at this place has been looking at her all day._

_But even then, she clearly doesn't feel sorry enough to actually say hi._

_Whatever. Whatever whatever whatever. It doesn't matter, Alex doesn't care. _

_She goes home to the new apartment. It's even smaller than the last one, because the kitchen isn't separate from the living room, but the bedroom's actually a little bigger. She turns on her tape deck and spends an hour or so taping up more of her posters, singing to herself and tapping her palms along the wall, in time with her dad's drumming on the tape, until she feels a little better._

_When she's bored with decorating, she sits on the couch, eats two blue popsicles, and watches TV until her mom comes home. _

_"Hiya, babe." She's got food from the restaurant and an hour before she has to leave for her next job, so she sits beside Alex on the couch and unwraps their sandwiches. "How was your first day?"_

_"It was okay," Alex says dispassionately. Her mom lifts an eyebrow._

_"Just okay?"_

_"The teacher's kind of boring. And there was this girl Jessica who seems like a complete bitch."_

_Her mom makes a sympathetic sound. "There's always a few bitches, huh?" She eyes Alex, trying to read her. Which she usually can do. "Was she mean to you?"_

_Alex shrugs, not looking at her. "You could just tell."_

_Alex is pretty sure her mom was really cool when she was in school. She probably had a ton of friends...you don't get to go out with a famous rock star if you aren't cool and popular. _

_"Did you make any friends?" Her mom asks after a moment, and Alex can tell she really hopes the answer is yes. Alex knows she feels bad they had to move (not that Alex had left any friends behind). _

_So she nods, and says like it's no big deal, "This one girl was nice."_

_"Oh yeah?" Diane smiles, relieved. So obviously relieved. "What's her name?"_

_She only hesitates a second. "Piper."_

_"Piper..." Her mom nods, like she approves just from the name. "That's good. You should invite her over sometime."_

_She sounds so happy about it - Alex knows she doesn't like how much she's alone in their apartments - that Alex feels a little bad for lying. "She was just nice, Mom, geez. It's not like we're best friends." _

_"Okay, okay. Hell, I didn't mean invite her __tomorrow. Just, you know. At some point._ _"_

_"Yeah. Maybe." _

_Alex would never say this to her mom, but she doesn't know if she would ever actually invite anyone over to the apartment. Even if she really did make a friend. Kids at all her schools always have something to say about her clothes or their car or her mom's jobs...she wouldn't want them to find out they only have one bedroom, that her mom is barely ever home and when she is she sleeps on the couch. _

_But still. Maybe Piper really will be nice to her at some point. She seems like she wants to, at least. Maybe she'll get over whatever her problem is and talk to Alex. Or Alex could even talk to her. Maybe. At some point._

_It won't necessarily always be a lie._

* * *

><p>"Say it again."<p>

Piper tilts her head, adorably confused. A question in her voice, she tries, "I love you?"

"Not that. I knew _that_." They haven't seen each other for nearly a year and a half, and even that was all too brief, but Alex still knows it. It's there in the first syllable of every single phone call; Piper's voice practically floats on it. She tugs on the hem of Piper's graduation robe, so she'll stop her pacing and sit down beside Alex on the library steps. "Say the other thing."

Sunlight has barely started to creep into the sky, but Alex swears it brightens a few notches with the smile Piper gives her. "I'm coming with you." She looks practically giddy. She leans over, the cadence of her voice slowing. "You. And me. In Bali. I'm gonna come with you."

Alex reaches out and tips Piper's chin toward her, kissing her in that soft, habitual way that sends a fresh thrill rolling through her chest. The past few hours have been a push and pull between the surreality at finally having Piper in front of her, and the comforting familiarity that tricks her into feeling like no time has passed.

"Are you sure?" she asks again, and it comes out soft. She keeps making Piper say it. She hadn't expected the _yes_ quite so fast, so easily won. The plane ticket had fluttered out of Piper's hands, crushed between their stomachs as they fell back on the mattress, Piper's lips against her skin, smearing her _yes_ on Alex's jaw, neck, lips. Now, she meets Piper's eyes, serious. "Really sure?"

Piper sends her fingers swimming through Alex's hair, leaning back just enough that she can hold her gaze without going cross-eyed. "This whole year, people keep asking me what I want. And I told you..." Her face falls open, nothing held at bay. "I just want you. I don't have another answer to that question. I want you back. Just you." She tips forward, her forehead dropping against Alex's, eyes closing. "_Three years_, Alex."

"I know."

"That was really stupid of us." Three years since they've been together, since they saw each other consistently, since they were anything more than phone calls.

Alex knows it was unavoidable, that it was maybe even necessary. But she still nods against Piper, whispering in agreement, "So stupid."

"I kept all your postcards. And every time you sent a new one, it was like I hated it here a little more. I just wanted to be having adventures with you." She smiles, fully, and reaches behind Alex, grabbing her discarded graduation cap, twirling it sardonically between them. "So I did the college thing. In a few hours, I'll get the diploma, and my parents can take their photos. But after that I don't care what they want anymore." She reaches out, cradling Alex's face in her hands. "And I've already told you what I want."

* * *

><p><em>Less than a month after Alex finally talks to Piper, when Piper sits next to her on the bus and officially becomes her friend, Alex gets invited to spend the night at the Chapman house.<em>

_It's her first ever sleepover, and even before it starts Alex loves everything about it: geating to bring her duffel bag to school and stuff it in her cubby; having a note for the bus driver that she's allowed to get off at Piper's stop; knowing there's not a whole weekend stretching out where they won't get to talk._

_They're both excited and overly hyper on the bus, even more so than usual Friday afternoons. Sarah, who used to be Piper's friend but won't even talk to her anymore, is glaring at them from the other side of the aisle, which kind of makes the whole thing even better. _

_They get off the bus and start down the sidewalk without even acknowledging Sarah or Alison or any of Piper's old friends who get off at the same time. Piper's little brother, Cal, gets off with them, but even though he's only a first grader he sprints off without them, beating them back to the house.  
><em>

_Already Alex can tell this is a rich neighborhood, with big houses, but she's too absorbed in their conversation to really worry about that; Piper's telling her about the field day and carnival the school has during the last week of school. One of the features is a dunking booth, and students get to vote which teachers they most want to sit in it. Alex and Piper are pitching ideas of how to get Jessica Wedge voted into the booth, and they're both still giggling a lot at the image when they get to Piper's front walkway.  
><em>

_They go to the front door, which is unlocked, and as soon as they walk inside, Piper calling out for her mom, Alex's laughter has already faded completely._

_Because it's a really, really nice house._

_It's big, and rich, and fancy. It's bigger even then her aunt and uncle's house, upstate; Alex has only been there a few times but it was the richest house she'd ever been inside. _

_Until now. _

_"Back here, sweetheart!" The voice comes from somewhere distant, like the house is just that big. _

_"You can just put your stuff there," Piper points to the foot of the stairs as she hangs her backpack on a hook. "We'll take it up to my room after we say hey to mom." _

_Alex follows Piper through the house, trying not to stare too much at how clean and perfect every room is. _

_Piper's mom is in a sun room on the other side of the house, sitting at a table with a spread of photo albums, stacks of photos with Post-Its on top spread in neat rows. She stands up when they come in. _

_Her eyes land on Alex, and she looks surprised. Not in a good way. Alex can tell she's looking at her clothes - and not the way adults do when they feel bad for her. More like the way Jessica Wedge's friends do. _ _Piper doesn't seem to notice, but Alex is pretty good at figuring out how people are looking at her. Even grown ups. _

_"You must be Alex. So nice to finally meet you." Her smile is so fake. God. Even Piper looks like she can tell._

_"Thanks." She pauses for too long before remembering to add, "Thanks for letting me stay over." _

_"Of course. You're welcome anytime" So. Damn. Fake. "Do you girls want a snack?"_

_Out the window, Alex can see a pool, covered up for the winter, and a trampoline, and even a small swing set. They follow Mrs. Chapman into the huge kitchen and she makes them a plate full of apple slices with peanut butter that they aren't allowed to take outside the kitchen. When they finish, they take Alex's bag upstairs to Piper's room. It's got a double canopy bed, stuffed animals everywhere, a TV in her room, a case full of fancy glass dolls, and a full bookshelf. _

_Alex knows she isn't talking enough. She's being weird and awkward and if she doesn't snap out of it Piper might never invite her back. So she makes herself smile. "Your house is really nice." _

_"Huh? Oh. I guess. Thanks." Piper frowns a little, like she's surprised Alex even noticed. "You want to go jump on the trampoline? It's not too cold yet." _

_"Sure." They go downstairs and outside, putting their coats back on and lifting themselves up over the blue padding and metal springs. Alex has never been on one of these before, and Piper gives her a detailed run down of all the games they can play. They even call Cal over, make it sound like they're doing him a big favor letting him join in, so they can play the games that need more than two people._

_Soon she's having so much fun, just reveling in getting to hang out with Piper outside of school, that she forgets to obsess over her house. _

_They stay outside until it's time for dinner - Piper's mom cooks lasagna, and Alex meets her dad and older brother - and after dinner Mrs. Chapman lets them help bake brownies. They go upstairs to Piper's room and play cards for awhile before they change into pajamas - Piper's in an Alice in Wonderland nightgown and Alex in a huge The Who T-shirt that used to be her mom's - and crawl into Piper's bed to watch a movie. Piper has The Princess Bride on VHS)._

_They stay up talking and giggling for at least an hour after they turn off the TV. Alex has never done this before, never fallen asleep with someone close by, and she likes the way the words slip out in the dark, how everything seems a little funnier, how weird it is to fee l Piper laughing beside her but not being able to see her face. Eventually Piper can't stay awake anymore, but Alex lays awake for awhile, weirdly hyper from staying overnight in a strange place, but not in an unpleasant way. She's pleased with herself, with the friendship, and with the sleepover._

_But she's also one hundred percent positive she won't be inviting Piper to her apartment._

* * *

><p>"Almost there...I gotta open the door, don't fucking peek, Pipes."<p>

"I feel like a kid about to be surprised with Disneyland."

"_Please_. Disneyland's got nothing on this. In about ten seconds you're going to regret that comparison...watch your step..."

"Who knew you have such a flair for the dramatic...hey, are we outside?"

"Alright..._open_."

Alex uncovers Piper's eyes, already leaning forward so she can watch the moment wonder fills Piper's face, like she's been dunked in light. She exhales a breath that sounds like, "_Wow_."

Pleased, Alex rests her chin on Piper's shoulder, slipping her arms around her waist from behind. "Told you."

They're on the smooth, wooden balcony outside their cliffside villa in Bali. The almost unnaturally saturated ocean looms below the edge of their private infinity, the cliff lush with greenery. The sky seems infinite above them, and it's the sort of postcard beauty Alex has come to expect, has even gotten used to.

So she watches Piper, seeing something like this for the first time. It takes awhile before she turns away from the cliff, looking back at their room, with its high ceilings and huge windows. "You always stay in places like this?"

"Mmm-hmmm," She murmurs into Piper's hair. "Crime pays, babe." Regret instantly chases the statement, but to Alex's relief Piper just laughs, still sounding incredulous.

"This is unreal." They're quiet for another long moment, and then Piper turns to face Alex, her smile stretching. "It's weird, isn't it? Us, being here."

Alex smirks, tilting her head playfully. "Why weird?"

"We've never been anywhere together. We never even went on school trips." Alex's smile softens a little; Piper skipped more than one overnight trip when they were younger, knowing that Alex couldn't afford to go. They'd never acknowledged it, never said the reason out loud. "And now we're on the other side of the world."

"Still glad you came?"

"God, yes." Piper sways forward, and Alex winds her fingers in Piper's hair and kisses her smile, that delighted, familiar thing. Their movements slow and deepen, and when Piper hums into her open mouth, Alex easily pulls Piper's shirt over her head.

Piper arches away, glancing around. "Can anyone see out here?"

"Nope." Alex uncurls a smile. "Unless they want to scale the fucking cliff." She nods behind Piper. "Want to try the infinity pool?"

Piper lets out a huffing, breathless laugh, like she still can't believe this is happening. She hooks her fingers through Alex's belt loop and pulls her close again, fingers fumbling with the buckle as she rounds her mouth along the curve of Alex's jaw. They lose their clothes quickly and dip into the warm water; Alex backs Piper up against the very edge of the pool, her back to the ocean, so she's framed within all that postcard beauty.

It feels good, her being there. More than good, it feels _right_, like the picture is finally complete. Because what good has all that improbably beautiful scenery, all around the world, been when the best thing - the most _beautiful _thing - was in goddamn Northampton, Massachusetts.

* * *

><p><em>After over a year of it - minus summer vacation of course - Alex is used to riding on the bus with Piper. They always sit the same way: shoulders pressed together, slunk low in the seat, heads bent so they can talk about the people around them. Alex usually puts her feet on the seat in front of them unless someone complains.<em>

_Today's different, though. Today's bus ride is going to last over two hours, because they're on their way to some science museum on a field trip. _

_Piper's being super boring, reading _The Giver_. Alex has a book in her bag, too, but she always gets headaches when she tries to read in buses or cars, so she's got on her headphones with her hood pulled up to hide them, even though she's not even sure it's against the rules on field trips._

_Still, after an hour, she starts to get restless. She spins the volume low and shoves her shoulder a little harder into Piper's. "You're being boring," she informs her solemnly._

_"Hold on, I'm at a really good part." _

_Alex splays a hand over the page, threatening, "I'll tell you what happens."_

_Piper's head snaps up. "You didn't tell me you'd read it!"_

_"Yes, I did." She _might_ have even stolen a copy from her old school library, snuck it in her bookbag without properly checking it out. She used to do that sometimes, but she'll never tell Piper that because Piper freaks the hell out if Alex even talks about breaking rules._

_"Fiiine." Piper gives this huge over the top sigh and closes the book, then looks at Alex like she expects her to have a list of activities. "What do you wanna do?"_

_Alex just smiles innocently, tugging her headphones from around her neck, wrestling the whole thing out from her hoodie. "Wanna listen?" _

_Piper gives her a skeptical look that Alex ignores, turning the headphones upside down and wedging the top between their shoulders. Even rolling her eyes, Piper shuffles automatically closer, leaning her ear against one end while Alex mirrors her, turning the music as loud as she can without drawing attention. _

_They sit like that through three songs, and then Piper's elbow digs into Alex's ribs. In her smug know-it-all voice, she says, "You know you're literally doing the same thing you were ten minutes ago? So you shouldn't actually be less bored?"_

_Alex just smirks at her. Piper doesn't get that music changes when it's a group activity. But she doesn't seem to be in hurry to pull her book out again._

* * *

><p>The plane rattles slightly, and Alex reaches for Piper's hand without even thinking about it. She'd have thought after thirteen years there would be nothing new left to learn about Piper, but here it is: she's a nervous flyer. Not so anyone could tell when the plane takes off or lands, just the sort that stiffens at every slight bump of turbulence.<p>

Her grip is tight on Alex's hand, but after a minute or so stretches out with no further trouble Piper relaxes her fingers but doesn't pull away. She readjusts herself slightly, leaning into Alex's side. There's a book open in Piper's lap, but at this point their overhead light is the only one on in the first class cabin. Alex plays absently with Piper's fingers, tracing patterns on the back of her hand, until finally Piper flips the book shut and reaches up, turning off the light.

"Giving up?" Alex whispers.

"Getting tired." Without asking, Piper plucks one of Alex's earbuds out and stuffs it into her ear. Alex wordlessly passes her the bulky mp3 player and Piper starts to scroll through.

"I'd have thought you'd be a snob about these," Piper mumbles, her voice already going soft with sleep. "You basically skipped the whole CD technology because you're so mixtape loyal."

"I'm still loyal. But this travels easier," Alex admits with a grin. She watches Piper scroll for a moment. "Just play The Cure, you know that's where you'll end up."

"Only the quieter ones," Piper flips to _Pictures of You_ and puts the mp3 player on her thigh, nestling her head against Alex's shoulder and closing her eyes. It makes her seem young, which makes Alex smile.

"Go to sleep," Alex says softly, kissing Piper's forehead. "Wake up in Greece."

Piper smiles without opening her eyes, the happiness practically shining out of her anyway. Alex loves that; she soaks in all evidence of Piper's happiness. It's just about been long enough that she's stopped cataloguing a comparison in her head, stopped trying to prove Piper is happier now than she was during her first months of college.

Usually it's not even a close contest. But Alex reassures herself anyway.

* * *

><p><em>Without her glasses, it's blurry underwater, even though she's got Piper's older brother's super fancy goggles on. Not that Alex could see Piper's face anyway; there are too many bubbles, a stream shooting out of her mouth and nose, rocketing to the surface as the loud, discordant syllables get warped by the water.<em>

_Alex closes her eyes, trying to focus solely on the noise, but she can't discern a tune. _

_Finally, less because she needs to breathe than because she can see this round is hopeless, she braces the balls of her feet on the concrete bottom of the pool and pushes toward the surface. _

_Piper comes shooting out of the water a few seconds after Alex, shaking her hair out of her face and sending water droplets flying. She gives Alex an expectant look. "Did you know it?"_

_"Pipes, I gotta be honest, that didn't sound like anything. That was just noise."_

_Piper sighs. "Fine, one more time." She draws a deep breath, preparing to submerge again, but Alex kicks her shin under the water. _

_"Just tell me, I'm clearly never going to get it." _

_Piper starts humming, giving Alex a look like it should be obvious. Which it is. When they're not underwater. _

_"Here Comes the Sun."_

_"Finally. Geez. So is it your turn or do I have to go again?" _

_"Let's do something else. We clearly aren't good at this game anymore." _

_"We?"_

_"Whatever, I'm not. It's not exactly riveting anyway."_

_"Fine. What do you want to do?"_

_"I don't know. Go get Cal, make him play Fox And Hound." A silent, reverse version of Marco Polo they'd made up a few summers ago. Much more serious and much more intense, but requiring at least three people to play. _

_"Okay." Piper hoists herself out of the pool, squeezing water out of her ponytail as she walks the perimeter toward the house, and Alex finds herself forgetting not to look._

_Piper switched to bikinis this summer. So. That doesn't help with the Not Looking._

_Alex ducks underwater again, forcing Piper out of her sight. _

_Once she's under there, she opens her mouth and yells. Just because she can. Just to hear the scream get sucked into the water._

_She and Piper have been friends for like four years now. They know each other pretty damn well. Sometimes, one of them will start to ask a question and the other will answer before the sentence is even halfway finished, without even realizing it. Alex's mom thinks it's hilarious, and impressive...she jokes that they can read each other's minds._

_But now Alex's mind is keeping secrets from Piper. It's drawn the curtains and barricaded the door and tacked up a huge KEEP OUT sign. It had to._

_Not that it's a big deal. At all. Piper is her best friend, she likes boys - she_ _obviously likes boys - and that's not a big deal. It's just that Alex doesn't have anyone else to look at. Piper may be fine with kissing every asshole idiot boy in their class, but Alex can't see past their female classmates' horrible personalities. They're the same kids who were calling her Pigsty a few years ago and making fun of her clothes and her mom and everything else, which kind of dims the attraction even if any of them __were__ interested in kissing girls._

_Which, for the record, they aren't._

_Obviously._

_"What's up, Alex?" _

_The voice floats down to her barely five seconds after she reaches the surface. She cranes her neck and squints into the sun; Danny Chapman is grinning down at her, all teeth and charm and blurred edges. He's almost sixteen now, and after years of pretending she and Piper don't exist, he suddenly seems to find Alex - or at least, her boobs - worthy of his time and attention. _

_"Nothing," she says in the flattest, most uninterested voice possible._

_"Where's my sister?" _

_"Getting Cal for a game." _

_"You guys need a third?" He's already pulling off his shirt. _

_Jesus. _

_"Nah, that's okay." Alex swings herself up onto the side of the pool and stands up, not because she particularly wants to keep talking to him, but because the angle - Danny looming over the water, probably looking down her bathing suit - was creeping her out._ _"I'd prefer Cal."_

_"Aw, c'mon," He cranks the smile up a few degrees. "Don't cop out with the ten year old. I'll go easy on ya." _

_"Not what I'm worried about." _

_Alex is already shutting down, preparing to walk away from him, but then she hears Piper from across the pool, her voice nakedly suspicious, "Uh, what are you doing here, Danny?"_ _  
><em>

_"I live here, dumbass," he says, barely sparing his sister a glance. "I was just telling Alex I'd play with you guys." _

_Piper scowls and rounds the pool, crossing her arms and glaring at her brother. "No, thanks. We're busy."_

_He grins. "Your Siamese twin over here - " That's apparently supposed to be Alex, because he turns to her with a grin. " - said you guys were gonna play a game."_

_"Not with you." Piper slides a glance at Alex, unmistakably annoyed._

_The curtains in Piper's head don't close fast enough, apparently, because Alex completely recognizes the look on her face: she's jealous. Holy shit. _

_For half a second, a mean impulse speeds through Alex. She could plaster on a fake smile, muster up a fake voice, laugh at every dumb thing Danny says, show Piper exactly what it looks like when she talks to boys, how she gets so far away from herself that it's hard to watch. _

_But that would be dumb, and immature, and unfair: Piper actually likes the boys she flirts with, at least a little. Alex would just be trying to piss off her best friend. And anyway, the idea of flirting with Danny like that, even just for show, kind of makes Alex want to vomit. _

_So she bumps Piper's shoulder with hers, going to stand so they're side by side. "I just fucking told him that."_

_Danny's eyes flash, and he smirks. "You always have had a mouth on you." _

_"I know, watch it..." Alex points at her own lips, over enunciating. "Fuck. Off." _

_Piper bursts into loud, surprised laughter, and Alex spins on her heel, jumping back into the pool, tugging Piper in after her._

_Alex figures out pretty quickly that Piper must see that Danny likes her, and she's just afraid that her best friend will start hanging out with her older brother instead of her. She isn't exactly jealous...at least, not jealous the way Alex gets at school, when Piper turns into her slightly fake self to talk to guys. _

_But right now it's summer vacation, and none of those guys are around, and Piper doesn't even seem to miss them. So Alex will take it; she has summer and Piper and bikinis in the still silence of underwater all to herself. _

* * *

><p>It's magic under the water; even Alex, with her unassisted vision, can tell.<p>

Piper had turned that into way too much of an issue. Even when Alex has assured her, repeatedly, that she wasn't nearly blind enough for it to be considered dangerous - "Pipes, have you blocked out the multiple summers when we practically lived in your swimming pool? Do you remember me swimming blindly into walls?" - Piper was still troubled by the fact that Alex wouldn't get the full, 20/20 experience of the underwater sights. But spontaneous scuba diving trips don't really allow for the planned ordering of prescription scuba goggles.

But it doesn't end up mattering. Everything in the ocean is magnified and shimmering, the colors so bright it hurts, and Alex's eyes feel blown out by all the blue. Piper stays close, keeps grabbing her hand and tugging her to look at coral or fish or anything else she notices. Her eyes are lit all the way up. Alex loves that about her, that bottomless excitement.

It's like they're alone on their own private planet, and Alex can tell Piper feels it, too.

When their time runs out, and they break the surface, they just smile at each other, silent understanding, and don't talk much on the boat ride back to shore, keeping the feeling pulsating between them.

They've been back at the hotel for nearly an hour and spoken less than twenty words between them. Alex is stretched on the bed on her stomach, Piper half draped over her, fingers absently tracing the salt shaker on her shoulder blade when she says softly, "Think there are any tattoo parlors around here?"

Alex smiles into the mattress, then tilts her head enough to look up at Piper. "Why? Is the butterfly tramp stamp finally happening?" It's an old joke between them, whenever Piper gets fixated on one of Alex's tattoos and idly mentions getting one herself. She never has concrete suggestions, so Alex likes to pitch the most cliche tats possible.

Piper swats at her shoulder. "_No_, asshole, not a butterfly." She pauses, perfectly timing the follow-up. "A fish."

Alex laughs more out of surprise than anything else. "A _fish_?'

"That blue and yellow one from today. Didn't you think it was beautiful?"

Alex lifts herself up on her elbow, reaching out with her free hand and twirling strands of Pipers hair around her fingers. "Eh, who knows? All I could see were colorful smudges."

Piper scrunches her face, adorably indignant. "I'm _serious_, Al."

She eases her smile into something softer. "Yeah, it was beautiful." She doesn't actually remember the specific fish Piper means. But it doesn't matter because, "It was all beautiful."

Satisfied, Piper smiles. "I mean it. I want a tattoo." Her eyes spark playfully. "I have to get on your level."

"My badassery level?"

"Obviously."

"Then a tropical fish is _definitely_ the way to go."

Piper steals Alex's laptop for half an hour until she finds the right fish, and gradually Alex figures out that she's actually serious about this. That Piper wants to remember today enough to etch it onto her skin. Alex slips her arms around Piper's waist and leans forward to kiss the back of her neck, and she practically _feels_ Piper's body shift with her smile as she says, "That's where I'm gonna get it."

They find a tattoo parlor the next day, and Piper hesitates for the first time. "Is it...safe?"

Alex gives her a look. "Is this your way of backing out?"

Piper shoves her slightly. "We're in a foreign country. I don't know anything about the health codes..."

"I swear it's fine, Pipes." Alex watches her for a second, observing the very real anxiety flickering across Piper's face, then reaches out and squeezes her hand. "If you want, I'll get one, too."

Relief floods Piper's expression. "You will?"

"Sure, why not? I'll even go first. You've never even watched one get done before." It's true. Alex has gotten all of her tattoos when Piper was somewhere else. The first one, the salt, was during their fight junior year.

"Okay." Piper smiles at her gratefully. "You go first. What are you going to get?"

"Who cares, I'll just pick something off the wall."

So Piper sits and holds her hand - even though Alex makes sure not to wince even a little while Piper's watching - as Alex smirkily gets a partially naked woman next to the roses on her bicep. Piper shakes her head, lips twitching as she tries not to smile. "You don't get to say shit about my fish."

Alex put exactly zero thought into the tattoo, but she doesn't care, as long as it got Piper onto the chair. Alex sits low on a stool in front of Piper, hunched over so she can maintain eye contact, both her hands clasped with both of Piper's. She talks constantly about nothing in particular, keeping Piper's attention on her with some overly detailed run down of her last phone call with her mom.

When it's finished, Alex gathers Piper's hair in her hand, smiling down at the fresh tattoo, this permanent proof of something they shared. She touches her lips gently to the edge. "It looks perfect."

* * *

><p><em>"So can I ask the obvious question?" <em>

_Alex goes still, nerves flaring to life again. She'd just told her mom The Thing, the Liking Girls And Only Girls Thing, and it had gone amazingly well. And even though that makes total sense, because it's her _mom_, Alex is still kind of waiting for the catch._

_And maybe this is it. Whatever the obvious question is...wedding? Grandkids? _

_"Are you and Piper...?" Diane trails off, like the rest of the sentence is obvious when she raises her eyebrows and grins._

_"What? No! God, Mom, no." Alex's face is hot and her mom is giving her this totally skeptical look, so she scrambles around for righteous indignation, crossing her arms. "What, now that you know I'm gay I can't possibly be just friends with a girl?"_

_"Sure you can. I'm just asking if you are." She shrugs, still smiling all wise and knowing. "It would...make sense to me, is all. A lot of sense."_

_God. Alex kind of wants to ask more about that, make her mom explain in great detail all the reasons she and Piper might make sense - because in Alex's head, it basically defies all sense making and is probably the most ridiculous thing in the world - but instead she just rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Piper's straight." _

_Diane's face goes soft, amusement gone. "Ah, babe, you don't know that." _

_Alex frowns slightly, because the sympathy in her mom's voice makes it sound like she admitted something she doesn't remember admitting. "Um. Yeah, I do. She'd have to really like guys to go out with the ones she goes out with."_

_"Eh," Diane shrugs like that doesn't even matter. "Some people like guys and girls. And a lot of 'em just don't figure out who they like until they're way older than you are." _

_She reaches out but Alex shrugs away from the touch, her face pinching in distaste, rejecting all this bizarre optimism. "I really don't think Piper's like that." Really, really._

_"Okay," Diane says, but not like she believes it. She says it like she knows something Alex doesn't, which is impossible. Alex knows everything about Piper. "If you say so, kiddo." _

* * *

><p>There's a lot of competition for Alex's favorite image from all the traveling - all the contenders are from the past year, ever since Piper came with her - but this is maybe her favorite.<p>

The beach in Tahiti. Translucent aquamarine ocean and sugar white beaches, mossy green hills in the distance: another saturated postcard view. And her mom and Piper, side by side in beach chairs, talking animatedly, all stretched out smiles and unprecedented suntans.

Her mom hasn't had anything remotely resembling a vacation in over twenty years. She's never been out of the country until this week. Alex is so, so glad she's giving her this.

Alex watches them for a few leisurely minutes before walking over from the cantina, the sand hot under her bare feet as she hands Piper a margarita.

Piper's eyes light up. "_Yes_, I love you."

"You love _tequila_," Alex corrects, settling in her own beach chair, facing her mom and Piper.

"I can love both."

Diane grins, sipping her own half empty drink. Alex stretches her legs out, resting her heels on Piper's thighs. "So, Mom. How's the car?" Alex had wanted a house to be the first major thing she bought for her mom, but four months ago her ancient car had a final breakdown, and a new one had become a necessity.

The house will be soon, though. A _nice_ house. She should be able to swing it in a year, maybe less.

Instead of answering, Diane throws Piper a look. "See what I mean? She always fucking asks me this."

"I know," Piper agrees solemnly. "It's like she wants progress reports." Alex kicks her lightly.

Diane smirks. "Al, the car's great. It follows directions and always stays inside the lines."

She and Piper laugh like some kind of comedy duo. Alex rolls her eyes and scowls, pretending to hate when they do this, even though she really, really doesn't. "Fuck you both. I should never let you hang out."

* * *

><p><em>When they used to pass notes in school, Piper would make those tiny, thick paper triangles, like some of the boys used for table football. Alex never bothered to figure out how, but Piper could do them so perfectly. The paper had to be folded about a dozen times, back and forth, getting smaller and smaller, so when she finally got around to reading the thing there were about a million creases that would never be smoothed out.<em>

_That's kind of what Alex feels like now. Like she's folding in on herself, tucked tight, getting smaller and smaller. _

_"Because I'm done. I have no idea why we even bother trying to be friends anymore, so let's just not."_

_Piper is done with her. _

_She'd looked back once, but that had only made her walk away faster._

_Okay._

_Okay okay okay okay it's okay._

_Alex isn't sure what to do. Her body doesn't seem to know how to proceed. There are tears in her eyes, like she's about to cry in school like some goddamn little kid. She closes her eyes, keeping them back; it feels like she's holding back blood._

_She doesn't walk back to the bleachers, but she doesn't follow Piper either. She just starts walking in a different direction, away the baseball fields and across a parking lot and finally off the campus and then the three and a half miles to her apartment, with _ _Piper's words running through her head on a loop, crashing again and again like a wrecking ball._

_It's not like this is a surprise. _

_Piper has always divided her life into pieces, and for a couple years now, Alex's piece has been shrinking. No; getting chipped away, so there's more available for everyone else. For Lane Groft and Tyler Fletcher and Brooke Lewis and Jesse fucking Campbell. _

_And it's not like that's been a surprise either. _

_Alex has always known where Piper is heading, has known it since that first day she went over to her house after school. High school is just a race for her, and the finish line is some fancy college, probably out of state. Or maybe it's not the finish line, but a whole new race, one that leads to an important job and a big house and a rich fucking husband. _ _All Piper's new friends are going in the same direction, but Alex isn't. She's just kept her company so far, and that's been nice, but they're running out of room on the road. She might as well get the hell off._

_It's starting to go dark inside her brain. Alex gets to the apartment and drinks her mom's wine and unravels a Cure cassette out of spite. She ends up staring down at her hands, wound with unspooled tape, and feeling almost painfully guilty, so she sits in front of the stereo for the rest of the night, recreating the mix._

_Piper's never been good at being mad at her. She'll probably apologize tomorrow. _

* * *

><p>"Hey, you."<p>

Alex grins cheerfully as she walks into the hotel suite; Piper's stretched on her stomach on the bed, eyes glazed over as she watches some British gameshow. She barely flicks a glance over at Alex. "Oh, hey."

Her eyebrows shoot up. "Geez, Pipes...four nights without me keeping your bed warm I kind of expected a better greeting." Piper's expression doesn't crack. Alex sighs, impatient. "Are you seriously still pissed?"

"Nope. Not pissed."

"Right. Just barricaded behind a wall of passive aggression." Alex leans onto the mattress, crawling toward Piper on her knees, giving her a placating kiss on the corner of her lips. "You wouldn't have wanted to come anyway. It was all work."

"And how is that different from when you're here?" Piper tosses back, but the fight is out of her voice. She's arching into Alex's touch already, letting her slide a hand through her hair.

"You do realize we aren't traveling around on grant money, right?" Alex asks lightly. It's a conversation that can go in endless, frustrating circles, if they aren't careful. Basically: Piper gets bored when Alex is working, especially if they've been in one place for too long, and Alex is forever reminding her this isn't actually a vacation, even though it might look and feel like one for Piper.

Fortunately, Piper chooses not to pursue the argument. She slides a little closer to Alex, tilting her head back to give her easier access to her neck and collarbone.

"How was your week?" Alex murmurs between light, teasing kisses across Piper's throat.

"It rained," There's the barest hint of a whine in her voice that isn't exactly attractive. "I barely left the hotel."

"You couldn't go to museums or something?"

"We've been here for almost two months, where do you think I haven't been already?"

"A show?"

"By myself?" Piper pulls back at that, looking irritated.

Alex rolls her eyes. Of course she's all about the appearances. "Would it really matter?"

Piper's eyes narrow. "I guess not. I do everything by myself lately."

Alex's jaw tightens, instinctive barbs piling up in her throat, but she makes herself swallow them. Piper's just chafing under all her free time. This happens. The novelty of a new country is usually all it takes. "Fahri said we're moving on soon." He hadn't exactly said it, but Alex had inferred. Relief sparks life into Piper's eyes, instantly. "Amsterdam, maybe?"

A smile starts to threaten Piper's face. "Yeah?"

"Mmm-hmmm." Alex takes advantage of the détente to pull Piper close again, slipping her hands under Piper's shirt, slowly climbing the ladder of her ribs. "Now if you're so sick of the hotel..." She ducks her head to kiss Piper's neck. "We can go out tonight..." She pulls Piper's shirt over her head and lightly nips her teeth around her lower lip, her hands roaming freely below. "Or..." She seals their lips together, her tongue tracing the seam, then moves away just enough to mutter, "You can have one more night stuck inside."

She feels the shape of Piper's smile against her mouth. "I can live with that."

* * *

><p><em>After all time, she is learning so many new things about Piper.<em>

_This is what Piper's tongue tastes like. This is the sound she makes when she kisses, this is what that sound feels like collapsing inside Alex's mouth. This what Piper looks like without a shirt, without a bra, this is what her breasts feel like, this is how hot her skin gets, this is how well she fits underneath Alex, this is the sound she makes when Alex strokes her nipple, this one when she tongues it. This is what it's like to have Piper's hands there and there and there. _

_Alex has become acutely aware of every molecule she's made of, and it feels like they could all scatter at any moment. _

_The apartment smells like burned eggs, even here, in Alex's bedroom. Piper kissed her. Piper kissed her. Piper kissed her. She's not sure how long ago now. Most of their clothes are on the floor of Alex's room, draped over books and mixtapes, and they've kicked the sheets off the bed, the same bed they've been sharing during sleepovers for seven years now.   
><span>_

_Alex presses her mouth to the base of Piper's throat, then shuffles back, kissing a trail down her sternum. Piper's fingers tangle in her hair, and Alex's tongue skims the skin of Piper's stomach and she feels it contract with reflexive, breathless_ _laughter. Alex feels laughter rise in her own throat, because of course Piper is ticklish, she knows Piper is ticklish, she's always known that, and honestly, she can't fucking believe this isn appending _

_She has her hands stretched above her, cupping Piper's breasts, but now she reaches down, gripping Piper's hips, thumbs tracing the edge of her underwater, hesitating. _

_"I can stop if you want," Alex says, even though something lurches in her stomach at the traitorous offer. She might snap in two if she stops. "We can slow it down." Except, no, they can't, because Alex can't quite make herself believe this isn't some freak one off event, that this isn't the only time in their lives this will happen. _

_Piper shakes her head, really hard, her lips curled together, looking like she's lost the power of speech and has to be particularly emphatic. Finally, she breathes out in this husky, trembling voice that fully unravels something in Alex's chest, "Don't stop. Please, Alex." _

_Without further encouragement, Alex hooks her fingers around the fabric and tugs, sliding it down her legs, in too much of a hurry to be teasing. She presses a light, gentle kiss to Piper's ankle just before flicking the underwear aside, joining the rest of the mess on the floor. She slides her hands up Piper's calves, stops at the knees, kisses her way up her inner thighs, feeling Piper's hips roll beneath her, impatient. _

_Alex presses her lips into the skin of Piper's thigh, stopping the sudden barrage of questions clawing up her own throat. She's thinking of all the boys Piper's ever kissed, how self-preservation meant she'd never asked about them, doesn't know how far they went. _

_It's stupid, childish and possessive, but all of a sudden Alex feels like the twelve year old kid with knots in her stomach because Piper sounds so damn happy about kissing a boy. It makes her want to know if Piper fucked Jesse Campbell or any of the others. Because, sure, Alex fucked other girls, and she always liked it, but she'd also been led to believe Piper was never something she could have like this. _

_She's having to revise a fair bit of history._

_She shakes off the anxiety, tells herself it doesn't matter, because Alex is the one here now. A predatory growl forms in her throat, pushing at the sides, and she quiets it by bringing her mouth down on Piper. She learns more. _

_This is what Piper tastes like. This is how it feels to have her legs vibrating trembling on either side of Alex's head, to be the one making that happen. This is how she begs with noise but no words, arching into Alex's mouth, her fingers slipping on Alex's scalp, scrabbling for purchase. This is the sound Piper makes when she comes._

_This is what it feels like to really, finally, have everything with her._

* * *

><p>Alex is half falling asleep under the hot spray of shower. She'd gotten off a plane two hours ago, back from another whirlwind trip that Piper didn't come on, which means she's out in the room, monosyllabic and wrapped in petty resentment, but Alex can't bring herself to worry about that right now. She's too exhausted, and stressed, and she's kind of getting sick of being guilt tripped over something that's not even her choice.<p>

The bathroom door opens, and a few seconds later a rush of cold air billows into the shower as Piper slips in behind her. Her eyes are empty of irritation; they're drinking Alex in.

Alex tilts a grin at Piper, relief threaded with teasing in her voice, "Fancy seeing you here."

Piper smiles, curling her arms to grasp Alex's shoulder blades, then lazily sliding her hands down her wet back. "Sorry for being a brat." Piper's blocking the spray of water and Alex shivers slightly as she leans close to kiss her. "I just missed you."

"I missed you, too. I always miss you." Alex kisses her deep like it will prove it, the water raining down on the them. Then she feels Piper's hand slip between her legs, fingers spreading her. Alex make a low, humming sound in the back of her throat, sliding her feet further apart and leaning back against the cold tile wall. Piper slips two fingers inside Alex, leaving her thumb twirling her clit, a steady, weighted pressure. Piper leans over her, bringing their lips together, the kissing in time to her hands' rhythm, Piper's always been good at that, like she's just naturally in sync. She breaks the kiss after awhile and rests her forehead against Alex's. Alex's vision is blurred and wet, going bright white at the edges the faster Piper goes, but she Alex still gets a look at Piper's expression, and it makes her chest constrict. Piper looks earnest and determined, like she's trying to prove something, like she wants to show Alex exactly why she shouldn't be left behind.

* * *

><p><em>Here's what Alex can't stop thinking about: how happy Piper looked when she got that acceptance letter.<em>

_Her face had flooded with it, all this joy and pride, and Alex knew her own expression must have looked wrecked. Or terrified. Something bad, at least._

_After a few seconds, they'd both dialed it back a few degrees, meeting somewhere in the middle: Alex congratulatory, Piper humble. But something in the air between them had changed, and Alex feels like someone just started a ticking countdown, possibly on a device wedged between her lungs._

_She's known Smith was Piper's first choice, and she'd been to the library to look up the driving distance months ago, back when she first applied. It's not so far; two and a half hours in a car, three on a frequently running Greyhound bus._

_But the distance isn't really the problem. It's that whole new life college brings, the one Alex won't be a part of - she'll hear about it on the phone and over holidays, maybe an occasional weekend visit - not to mention to possibilities it will open up after._

_The trajectory of Piper's life hasn't changed, in spite of the otherworldliness of this past year they've been together. Piper's still heading as firmly away from Alex as she always has been. _

_And all Alex can do it stay behind and wait._

* * *

><p>"No."<p>

Even though Alex had expected that, she feels unexpectedly pissed off by how quickly and simply the answer comes. "That's it? Just...unequivocally _no_?"

"That's right." Piper's got her stubborn face on. And beneath that, something Alex wishes she couldn't read: betrayal. "I _told_ you I was never going to...participate. You said I'd never have to do anything."

"I know that," Alex replies, trying to keep her voice reasonable. "And doesn't the fact that I'm only asking you _now_, after almost two years, suggest that maybe I don't have a choice? It's kind of an emergency, Pipes."

"So, what does that mean? That it's even more dangerous than usual?"

Alex's expression turns stormy. "You _really_ think I'd only ask you if it was _more_ dangerous? Or, fuck, Piper, dangerous at all. It's one flight. You can use your own passport, and you're not even carrying drugs. Just money."

"_No, _Alex." Piper crosses her arms, unyielding. "It's still illegal. It's still _wrong_."

At that, the fight in Alex's chest clenches into a fist. She'd promised herself she wouldn't get angry, that she'd get through this because she has to - and she really does _have_ to - and not let it become a huge issue. But she can't help but pounce. "Fuck that. You don't get to make it about some _moral high ground_. You're perfectly happy taking the plane tickets and the hotel rooms and the fancy restaurants and everything else, even though you know exactly how I'm paying for it. You're saying no because you're okay being part of everything as long as there's no risk to you, and that's fine, Pipes, but at least _admit_ it."

"Fine," Piper retorts, seething. "I _don't_ want the risk. And I don't have to take it, because I _told_ you,from the very beginning, that I wouldn't."

"Christ, do you _really_ think I'd let you go down for anything? I'd make sure your name stayed out of it." She offers this promise with the same easy flippancy people use when making alliances for the apocalypse: with utter certainty the scenario will never actually present itself.

Piper sighs, the anger fading from her face. Which turns out to be worse, because she gives Alex this pleading look. "Alex. I can't, okay? Sorry if that makes me a coward, but I _can't_."

That word, _coward_, is a thorn between them. Alex closes her eyes, and for just a second, she's a breath away from telling Piper the truth: that this is their _only_ option. That Kubra apparently doesn't like how much Piper's around, how much she's seen. That Fahri came up with the solution: Piper has to be implicated.

But she always makes a conscious effort to keep the harsher realities of the cartel hidden: Alex wants it to be all about exotic travel and glamorous amenities and VIP booths. She doesn't let her see the danger - the danger that gives Alex such an addictive adrenaline rush but would likely send Piper into a tailspin of panic.

She already lost Piper once over this job. She doesn't want to send her running again.

"Pipes." Alex reaches for her hand, hating herself a little for it. "I wouldn't ask if I had any other option. I promise you I wouldn't." It comes out sounding so true, because it is. "It's a small, safe, one time thing. And we are seriously fucked if it doesn't happen."

Piper's chewing on her lower lip, eyes holding Alex's, and it looks like it's hurting her to consider this. Finally, in a small, resigned voice, she repeats, "A one time thing?"

"_Yes_." The syllable comes out like pure relief. "Thank you. Really."

* * *

><p><em>"Hello?" <em>

"_Hey, it's me."_

_"Alex, hey! I was going to call you."_

_She'd left a voicemail on Piper's dorm answering machine earlier in the day. Now Alex can hear music and the rise and fall of conversation behind Piper's voice. She doesn't say when she was going to call. "That's fine, I just figured you'd been going out. Didn't want to miss you."_

_"Good call. Everyone's pre-gaming at our place." Pre-gaming is a new addition to Piper's vocabulary. It means getting drunk before going somewhere to drink more (or somewhere they're too young to get served). Piper's voice sounds overly articulate and cushioned, which means the pre gaming is serving its purpose. _

_"Do you have to go?"_

_"No, no, no I want to talk to you." _

_From the other side of the phone Alex hears someone say, "Hey, Pipe, is that your girlfriend?!" _

_"Ask her when she's coming here!" _

_"They want to meet you," Piper says, and her voice is practically bursting with pride. It takes Alex a second to figure out why, to push past her instinctive, disoriented jealousy at hearing voices she doesn't recognize say Piper's name with such familiarity, and realize that this is the first place Piper's ever been able to talk about Alex as her girlfriend. _

_"Yeah, I want to meet them, too." It doesn't sound sincere, even though Alex really does want to meet them. But only to get rid of the unknown factor. _

_Piper's saying something to the people on the other end of the phone. It sounds like she's covering the mouthpiece. Alex knows she's drunk, and in a small dorm room presumably filled with people, and that this isn't a big deal. _

_But Piper's been gone for three weeks and Alex still isn't used to the missing her. _

_"Alex?"_

_"Yeah, I'm here." _

_"Okay. Sorry, the phone won't reach in the hall, or I'd go out there."_

_"No, it's fine. You're busy, just call me in the morning. I'll talk you through your hangover."_

_"Are you sure?"_

_"Yeah, it's cool."_

_"Okay. Is your mom there? Can I say hey?" _

_"You want to talk to my mom when you're drunk?"_

_"Oh, right..."_

_Alex laughs at her. "I'm kidding, she wouldn't give a shit. But she's at work."_

_"Okay. Just tell her I said hi."_

_"Will do."_

_"And tell you."  
><em>

_"Tell myself you said hi?"_

_Piper giggles. "No. Sorry. That was dumb. I can just tell you."_

_"Tell me what?"_

_"That I love you. And I miss you."_

_"Me, too, Pipes. A lot, okay?" _

_"And I'm gonna call you in the morning."_

_"Good. But I don't want to be on the phone when you puke, okay?"_

_"I don't puke when I'm drunk. Or hungover. I never have."_

_"Sexy."_

_"Shut up."_

_"Night, Pipes."_

_"Goodnight. Bye, Alex."_

* * *

><p>"Alex, I miss you."<p>

"I don't have time to wander around flea markets and drink cafe au lait with you."

"But I'm so cute. Look how cute I am." Piper's voice is light and playful, and that in itself is enough to get Alex to drag her eyes away from the computer.

"Babe, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking stressed."

"But you're always so fucking stressed. I feel like a pathetic housewife." Playfulness gone, that fast. This is a familiar fight - familiar over the last year or so at least - but it's taken on new weight for the last few months. "Is this our life now?"

Alex hears shuffling on the bed, and when she turns around Piper's walking away. Purely reflexive panic knifes through her, and she stands up. "Hey...hey." Piper stops walking, thank God. "Let me take you out tonight, okay? Anywhere you want to go." Piper gives a fraction of a smile, lets Alex kiss her, placated.

And for some reason, that placation is enough for Alex to stop her again, "Hey...would you be up for a trip to Istanbul this weekend?"

It goes against a promise she made, and it's probably a long shot, but this time the emergency is real. A client got picked up - not a huge one, no one in contact with the higher ups - but enough that they've had to stop using all the regular mules, let them lay low just in case. Now they're scrambling to make drops on time.

And Piper's already done this once; Alex already brought her into this, didn't have a choice in it. And she knows Piper's been feeling restless. They've been in Paris for too long, and Alex has been too busy. It makes Piper moody and snappish, which makes Alex defensive and harsh - it's patently _not_ her fault that Piper doesn't have a job, or anything besides Alex to occupy her time. It's not her fault that they're two years removed from her college graduation and purposelessness is starting to eat at Piper's brain.

None of that is Alex's fault. But it scares her all the same.

Piper's eyes light up, and for a second Alex thinks the gamble has paid off, that Piper's so desperate for something to do that she'll rethink her former participation embargo. "Yes, of course."

"Oh, babe, that's great...thank you." A weight eases off Alex's shoulders. "I think you should be able to get there and back in a day, so you won't even have to stay overnight."

"Oh my God." Just like that Alex knows she was wrong; Piper's voice is devoid of anything good. "I thought for a second you meant we would go together. Like a vacation. Like _normal_ people."

A vacation. Of course a fucking vacation.

"I _need _you to do this. I wouldn't ask if I had _any_ other option."

"Yeah, I've heard that before. And you _specifically said_ it was a one time thing."

"This isn't some perpetual vacation, Piper. We're _here _because I'm _working_."

"So, what, now I have to _pull my weight_?"

"Of course not, don't be an idiot. But you don't get to lay around and pout - "

"I don't _pout _- "

"- whenever I am _drowning_ in work! Especially if you won't even consider helping me..."

"It isn't my fucking job to help you, Alex, I'm not one of your drug mules!"

Alex sucks her lower lip between her teeth, physically stopping herself from pointing out it isn't Piper's _job_ to do anything. This fight is getting away from them, like all the issues are spilling out too quickly, but it's still just a retread of old ground.

"I know that. And fuck you if you think I treat you like one."

"Well, it _does_ seem like I'm only visible to you when you need me for illegal errands."

"You just mean I'm not at your beck and call anymore, completely able to drop everything else at your every whim."

"No, that'd be what _I'm_ supposed to do for _you_."

"You don't _have_ anything else to drop!"

"And whose fault is that?"

The question stalls their momentum. The fight's gone off course, strayed somewhere unexpected. Alex gives Piper a cold, tired look. "I'm pretty damn sure it's not mine."

Piper flinches, and looks away, and it feels like a victory until she says tightly, "I can't do this anymore."

The bottom drops out of Alex's stomach. "Do what?"

"I...I can't be here."

"Are you serious?" Scornful, good, it comes out scornful. Not panicked. Not terrified. "Where are you going to go?"

"I don't know where I'm gonna go, I'm gonna go home, back to the States..."

Alex lassos the tidal waves of panic rushing through and forcibly hardens it, so all she sounds is angry, "I can't believe I didn't see this coming. Of _course_ you're leaving the moment things get complicated. _Again_. Classic fucking Piper."

"_Right_, Alex, make this my problem," Piper's voice is shaking. "I guess that's easier than facing the fact that you are a _drug dealer_. And it is ruining everything good in your life."

What hits Alex so hard is how much Piper means it. It's not just deflection, it's not a swerve away from Piper's own issues of boredom and stagnancy. She _really_ means it, and suddenly Alex feels every bit of whatever changed between them after Brussels. She usually tries to forget the fear that had been trapped behind Piper's eyes that day, how real her anxiety was. It had been necessary, so Alex had forgiven herself for it, but suddenly she's wishing she never asked for that again.

And yet, there's still something in there to fight.

"You knew exactly what you were getting into," Alex says quietly. "You didn't have to come..."

"I left you over this once already," Piper says tightly, painful memories washing over her face. "And it hurt like hell, because I love you, and I needed you, so _yeah_, I tried to look past it. I _bent_ on the goddamn issue because it was obvious you wouldn't, that you were never going to give it up for me."

"That's _not fair,_" Alex bites out, because it isn't, it's simplifying things. Even Piper admitted their breakup had been about more than the cartel, that their lives hadn't fit back then.

And then she thinks about Piper walking away from every other part of her life. Making _sure_ she fit with Alex's.

_But_.

"You looked me in the eye and you said you wanted _me_ and nothing else. You didn't have some grand plan that I'm keeping you from, Pipes. You said you spent a year looking at my postcards and wishing you were with me, so _don't_ act like you made some noble fucking sacrifice."

"You're right." Piper's voice is soft now. Her eyes are too bright. "You are. But you looked _me_ in the eye and said carrying that bag was a one time thing. And now you're asking me again. How am I supposed to know how far it's gonna go?'

Alex grits her teeth, shaking her head, impatient, "I wouldn't - "

"And how am I supposed to believe anything you say about it?" Piper's voice breaks, and she looks like a single blink might send the tears spilling over, but before it does she turns and walks out of the bedroom.

* * *

><p><em>It's almost Piper's goddamn birthday, and that really doesn't matter since Alex hasn't seen or talked to Piper in seven months, but it's still kicking at her ribcage all fucking day, making Alex feel like shit and making it far too obvious how much she's lost.<em>

_She could actually buy Piper a decent gift, for once. She always put way too much time and thought into mixtapes, like an idiot pretentious kid, as if that made up for the fact that she always gave the same thing and spent no money. _

_But now she could buy something good, something different. Except she won't be seeing Piper on her birthday. And even if she did, Piper would probably give back the gift just like she did the necklace. It took Alex forever to pick out that necklace; she'd never bought jewelry in her life. And Piper had handed it back with her sanctimonious comment about preferring the tapes._

_Fuck her. _

_Alex forces herself to stop thinking of birthday gifts or birthdays at all, tries not to imagine Piper in her apartment with Polly and her other shiny friends, all of them drinking and giving her decent gifts that cost money. _

_But her brain is dark the whole day leading up to it, the kind of dark that feels like it's dragged her down. It pisses her off, that Piper still has that affect on her, that she has any access to Alex's brain or heart or anything else. She wants to stop feeling anything about her, even the anger. _

_Alex doesn't know how to turn that off, hasn't learned that in ten years of this tumultuous Alex-and-Piper shit, but she at least knows how to drown it out._

_It's been almost two months since she last used (snorting a quick line in the bathroom of a nightclub before going up to some potential mules, now actual, official mules), which is perfectly acceptable. Alex unravels the seam in her purse and pulls out the bindles of heroin she'd stashed there for treats. Her mom's at work, and Alex will probably be in blissful, dreamless, feel nothing sleep by the time she gets home. _

* * *

><p>Alex didn't think she'd really go.<p>

It hadn't seemed possible, that they could to zero to broken up that quickly, that anything happening that fast could be permanent. Especially since Piper doesn't have access to her usual immediate exit; Alex figured she'd wander the streets of Paris for a few hours, brooding and angry, then come back to fight some more and, eventually, work their way back to somewhere good. Or at least better.

But Piper hadn't been outside the bedroom for even twenty minutes when Alex had heard her on the phone with the airline.

She did disappear after the phone call, returning late and going to sleep on the couch in the suite's living room. Alex is in the king sized bed, alone and wide awake, slowly talking herself into taking this seriously, into realizing that Piper is actually planning to go.

Then she sneaks out of bed and stolen Piper's passport, stuffing it beneath her stack of T-shirts in a drawer Piper doesn't share. She hides it because Piper needs neat, easy exists, she always has, and she's already struggling with that: she hasn't let herself be in the same room with Alex for more than a few seconds since the fight.

So Alex will force her to circle the small space of the hotel room, searching. She'll strand her here if she has to, make her miss the damn flight, but most importantly, she'll buy herself time to talk Piper back from this edge she's about to hurl them off of. Alex is confident she can do it; she may not have seen this coming, but she still knows Piper better than anyone. This decision has no staying power.

But that doesn't calm the full fledged panic flipping over her insides, darkening her brain.

It keeps her hands shaking the whole morning while Piper moves around silently putting things into suitcases. The sight of her makes Alex so, so angry. Fuck her for bailing, like she always does, and when she realizes the passport is missing, fuck her for asking Alex to help her find it like there's any chance in hell she'd make it easier for her to leave. Like she's allowed any favors.

At one point, when Alex refuses to help look, Piper gives her this frustrated, disgusting look like she barely recognizes her, and then stomps out of the room, and Alex feels her stomach roll sickeningly, because for a second it looked like Piper _really_ wants to get the hell away from her.

A sudden, childish need overwhelms Alex: she needs to hear her mom's voice. Diane has never needed details when it comes to her and Piper; she is _always_ rooting for them, always so sure they'll end up together and okay, that nothing that breaks between them is permanent. She'll tell Alex she's doing the right thing, that she'll be able to talk Piper out of leaving.

So Alex pulls out her phone and dials, but it's not her mom's voice that answers.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **The intercut flashbacks won't be a thing throughout the story...those and the Alex POV are just for this prologue chapter. Subsequent chapters will also be shorter, but I plan on doing more chapters for this fic than the previous ones.

I was sort of torn with how to do this one, because I hate to time jump from angst to angst...but the events between Landslide and this story are the closest to canon this verse will come, and while there are obvious discrepancies and subtle differences in the dynamic, it's still more interesting for me to center this story around the obvious major divergence from canon that the YB history dictates, which is what we'll see going forward, and what this story is really about. But hope this kind of vignette style intro gives you a sense of things, and obviously we'll find out more about the break up (?) once we get into Piper's POV.


	2. Chapter One

**a/n: **_Hey y'all, sorry for the delay on this one. It was poor fic publishing timing...literally the day after I posted I got a big writing assignment on a deadline for work, so that's been a big rushed thing for the last few weeks._

_Like I mentioned, the chapters in this story (minus that first prologue) are going to be shorter than my usual deal, but hopefully from this point forward that will help me update more frequently. Anyway. Enjoy! Definitely lemme know what you think._

Chapter One

Piper can't find her passport.

It makes no sense, because she always keeps it in the outside pocket of her bag, the bag she always takes on flights as a carry on. She never moves it between trips, _never_, but it's not there. They've been in Paris for awhile now - almost three fucking months - so obviously she hasn't seen it lately, but it was _there_.

Except now it's not, so she's tearing apart the hotel trying to find it. Even though she's already packed all her stuff into suitcases, already emptied every drawer and closet she'd been using, so there's really nowhere logical to look.

Her eyes are starting to prickle with hot tears of frustration, but Piper blinks them back and keeps moving. That seems like the most important thing right now; she won't let herself be still. If she stops for too long, she'll lose momentum, and this momentum is the only thing that will get her to the airport and onto the plane.

And she stays still long enough to really look at Alex, that momentum's going to stall.

But she _can't find her fucking passport_.

Piper takes a breath and walks back into the bedroom. She can barely make out Alex in her peripheral vision, sitting on the bed, and Piper makes a point not to look over, opening a random drawer as she says, "Did you look at all?" Alex doesn't answer, which makes Piper's stomach tighten; Alex has never been one for the silent treatment. Piper should probably be relieved that she's obviously done trying to reopen the fight, but the silence gets to her even more. "Alex...I understand you're upset, but could you at least acknowledge I'm a person who is speaking?" Still nothing. Nothing from Alex and nothing in the drawer, and Piper feels her frustration flare. "_Alex_. Passport!" If she misses this flight she is screwed.

If she misses this flight she will never have the strength to get on another one.

Then Alex says, in this small, disbelieving voice, "My mom died," and all that strength and momentum collapses.

Piper stops moving.

She turns her head slowly, looking at Alex for the first time all day. She's sitting on the edge of the bed, face turned toward a wall, staring straight forward, completely still.

For a second, Piper just blinks at her like she's expecting Alex to take it back. To clarify that she doesn't mean _Diane_, that she didn't mean _dead_, that this is some sort of trap.

"What?" Piper feels paralyzed, locked in place by her own disbelief.

They talked to Diane two days ago; Piper had been curled up against Alex's chest while she talked. She could hear the hum of Diane's voice for most of the conversation, coming through the phone, and then Alex had passed it over so Piper could say hi and get caught up on the gossip from Diane's weekly poker game.

Two goddamn days ago Diane had been laughing and joking and Piper has a flight home in only a few hours and she'd already started worrying about what she was going to say to Diane when she saw her, because of _course_ she'd want to see her, and it just doesn't make any sense that she could be dead.

"_What_?" It slips out again, breathless.

Alex still doesn't look over. Piper still hasn't moved toward her.

"My aunt...called. It happened this morning, I guess."

This morning. For a nanosecond, Piper's mind cranks into overdrive, like she can prove this wrong, as though they're misremembering some phone call. What does Alex's aunt know, Piper's never even _met _that aunt, just heard Diane trash talk her for years. She has a rich husband, apparently, but never deemed fit to help her sister out when she couldn't afford rent.

All of which runs through Piper's mind as she blurts out, almost skeptically, "_What _happened?"

"An aneurysm." Alex's voice bends and trembles and makes her sound maybe nine years old. The sound hits Piper right in the chest, piercing whatever fog is engulfing her, and she crosses the room to sit down. Alex's eyes find hers, teary and desperate and looking like they've been searching for something to grab onto. "I don't know, my aunt said so many things I can't even remember now."

The look on Alex's face makes Piper finally believe it.

"Alex..." She doesn't know if it's her own hurt or Alex's that fans out in her chest as Piper pulls Alex against her, stroking her hair. "I'm so sorry," her voice breaks, tears inching up her throat.

"My first instinct was to call her and talk about it." There's a catch in Alex's voice, tears in her eyes, but she isn't crying, so Piper squeezes her eyes shut and swallows against the lump in her throat.

They stay like that for a long moment, Piper stroking Alex's hair, wanting desperately to make this go away. Eventually, she presses her lips to the side of Alex's head and whispers, "What do we do?"

"I don't know..." Alex pulls away, looking lost. She stands up and walks to the nearest piece of furniture, picking up a random T-shirt and pointlessly folding it; it's a little heartbreaking, like she's running on the same false, don't-stay-still momentum Piper had been for the past few hours. "I don't know, I mean, I need to fly home. I need to figure out the funeral because there's no one else to do it." She sounds like she's barely skating the edge of panic.

"Okay."

"Will you see if you can find us two seats out on a flight today?"

For the first time, the absurdness of the timing occurs to Piper.

She already has a flight; to their hometown, to the place where Diane died, where Alex will have to plan the funeral. But that flight is in two hours, and Piper was supposed to be going alone.

For just a second, selfish, twisted panic sets in. This will undo everything. She's been working up to that moment of strength for months, without even realizing it, but that strength is gone now. She's used it up, and she may not be able to grab it again.

Piper looks at Alex, her hands trembling while she folds clothes, a muscle pulsing in her jaw, eyes wide and unblinking. It makes Piper's chest hurt; she wants to go over to her and pull the shirts away, make Alex slow down, tell her it's okay to stop and really _feel_ this. She wants to let Alex cry, and she wants to hold her when she does it.

A single memory suddenly assaults Piper, crushing in its clarity: the look on Diane's face when Piper finally made it to the hospital five years ago, how wrecked she looked, how that had scared Piper more than anything else. She remembers Diane hugging her, still somehow able to offer comfort as Piper cried into her shoulder.

Sobs feel stacked up in Piper's throat, but she won't cry as long as Alex isn't, even though surely someone should be. Instead she swallows and swallows until she's able to say, "Of course. I'll call the airline now." There's no way they can pack up in time to get on Piper's original flight, even if there are other seats. "I...I still need to find my passport."

For the first time since she stood up, Alex stops moving. She closes her eyes, then says, "Top drawer, underneath my T-shirts."

Momentarily forgetting what's going on, Piper bursts out, "_Jesus_, Alex. You fucking hid it?"

Alex's lips curl inward, and she looks away, looking like a shamed little girl. It hurts to look at, because it throws Piper back in time, makes her think of Alex trying not to cry on the bus or in front of the bleachers or in the car after meeting her dad.

Piper rummages in the drawer and pulls out her passport, tucked between V-necks. For a second, a panicked impulse knifes through her: _run_.

She can still make her original flight.

But that's the coward in her, and anyway, she can't run from this. She could go home without Alex, sure, but Diane will still be dead. The funeral will still be happening somewhere close by. Alex will still be following her there; she'll just be alone.

Piper steels herself, sticks the passport in her back pocket, and gathers the contents of the drawer in her arms, stacked and folded. She crosses the Alex, tucking her chin on top of the shirts so she can free an arm, and she gently tugs away the shirt Alex is folding for the fourth time and adds it to the pile.

"It's okay," she says softly. "I've got this."

Alex's gaze finds hers and holds on. All at once her face tightens and then collapses, a sharp, stuttering breath jerking out of her, the kind of sound that precedes full on sobbing, and Piper's ready to let the clothes fall to the floor so she can reach for Alex.

But then Alex's features smooth out again, looking like it takes painful physical effort to do so, and she turns very deliberately away from Piper. "_You're_ already packed." Each syllable sounds forced out. "So just...just get us a flight."

"Okay." Piper puts the stack of shirts down on the bed but stands there for another moment. Tentative, she reaches out and rests her hand lightly on the back of Alex's arm. Alex shifts so the touch falls away.

Finally, Piper turns away, heading toward her phone in the other room. It hits her, suddenly, what she's done: pulled away _just_ before Alex needs her more than she ever has their whole lives.

In spite of Piper's promises to herself, tears start to slip out as she walks out of the bedroom, and she has to press her fist over her lips to keep quiet as she cries for Alex, for herself, and most of all for Diane, who for some reason always seemed to believe Piper was better than this.

* * *

><p>They get a flight at ten pm out of Paris, which will put them landing back in the States just before midnight East Coast time, after nearly an eight hour flight. Piper tells Alex this, and she nods, but for the most part they're in separate rooms, making phone calls, trying to prepare.<p>

In the taxi on the way to the airport, Piper asks hesitantly, "You called...someone, right? To let them know you're leaving?" She's not sure why she's doing this, acting like she doesn't know Fahri's name, that he was obviously who she had to call.

Alex gives her this look like she's too exhausted to be irritated. "Of course."

That's all they say on the way to the airport.

Alex's arms are wrapped around herself, her jaw clenched, and she won't look at Piper. To be fair, she doesn't seem to be looking at anything. Piper has seen her do versions of this before, briefly: the way her eyes withdraw when she doesn't want to talk about something, when she's trying to be okay even though she isn't.

But this seems worse.

Right now, her eyes are so far away Alex seems unreachable, like she's somehow managed to click herself off. There's nothing in her face for Piper to recognize.

When she can't stand it anymore, Piper reaches over to take her hand. Alex doesn't pull away, but her fingers don't even twitch in response. She doesn't look over.

Fear wallops Piper in the chest and it's chased by an instinctive, childish thought that she should probably call Diane.

Piper has to twist around and stare out the window until she gets herself under control.

* * *

><p>They've flown dozens of times together over the past two years, but there's nothing of the familiar, almost comforting routine in this one.<p>

Alex stays gone the whole time they're in the airport; that's the only way Piper can think of to describe it. It's like walking through customs and security with _no one_, like Alex isn't even there. It's not so different than what it would have felt like if Piper had taken her original flight, alone.

She holds Alex's limp hand again while they wait at the gate. Every five minutes or so she squeezes her fingers and asks, "You okay?" when what she really means is _You there? _

She never gets an answer. Finally, she pushes, "Alex?" Again, voice inching toward hysteria, "_Alex." _

Alex closes her eyes. "Pipes..._stop_."

She sounds like Alex again when she says it: pleading mixed with anger. Piper slips her fingers between Alex's, but she pulls her hand away, turning her head as far as she can, like she doesn't want Piper to see her face. Piper sees her shoulders shudder.

Piper leans back in her chair and presses her fingers over her eyelids. They stay silent until boarding call. And as they file into their first class seats. And for the first hour and a half of the flight, until Piper can't take it anymore, and starts talking just to talk.

"I called Cal," she tells Alex, apropos of nothing. "He's home, you know, for the summer. He said he'd come pick us up, he can bring my car, it's still at my parent's house, you know, and then we can just drop him off and drive to your place..."

Piper's voice trails off uncertainly; she's not even sure Alex is hearing her, but then she mutters in response, "Why do we need _Cal_ to come get - " Alex stops talking abruptly, her face freezing. "Oh..."

They've gone back home for a handful of days at a time, usually every few months. Diane always picks them up.

"_Oh_." The word comes out like Alex has been sucker punched in the gut. Her face crumples, tears spilling over finally. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck f_uck_."

"Alex..."

Alex jackknifes at the waist, hunching over in the airplane seat, fists braced on her knees, forehead resting on top of her knuckles. The muscles of her back are convulsing; Alex cries without noise.

Piper's vision blurs instantly, and she stretches her arm across Alex's back, bending low and pressing her forehead against the back of Alex's head, practically draping over her. Alex doesn't shake her off; after a minute or so, she even frees one of her hands and seizes Piper's in a death grip.

Piper doesn't say anything, swallows every instinctive platitude that swells in her throat. She slides her hand in soothing arcs across Alex's back and presses her lips against her hair.

Eventually Alex's body stops shaking, the convulsions in her muscles calming, but she doesn't make a move to sit up so neither does Piper. At one point the plane rattles slightly, and Alex's grip on Piper's hand tightens, like a habit.

Her eyes fill up fresh, and she blinks tears onto the back of Alex's neck. "I'm here," Piper whispers. She feels Alex shudder, then make a move to sit up. Piper leans back enough to let her, but she doesn't let go of her hand.

Alex's face is streaked with tears, her eyes swollen, but the emotion is shutting down again. Piper's heart clenches when she looks at her, her free hand almost aching to reach up and touch her face, but for some reason she's unsure of what she's allowed.

* * *

><p>They don't sleep the whole flight, or talk anymore. Eventually, they land, go through customs and baggage claim, and walk outside of their most familiar airport into fresh night.<p>

Cal shows up, pulling Piper's car to the curb outside the airport before he hops out and hugs Piper in greeting. He's obviously avoiding look at Alex, with the wide eyed nerves of a twenty-one year old unaccustomed to tragedy.

"Good to see you, sis," he says as he pulls back, giving Piper an awkward pat on the shoulder, before his eyes skirt toward Alex and back again. "Really sorry about your mom, Alex."

It takes her too long, but eventually Alex surfaces enough to shoot Cal a tired fraction of a smile, skeptically asking, "It's _Alex _now?"

He grins a little, looking relieved. "Sorry. _Hobbs_." He steps forward and awkwardly hugs her, letting go fast. He grabs two of their suitcases and heads to the trunk of Piper's car, looking relieved to get away.

Piper tries to catch Alex's eye, but she's already ducking into the backseat of the car.

"You want to drive?" Cal offers the keys.

It's tempting, just to have something do, an actual _task;_ Piper's not sure she can take another forty-five minutes sitting next to Alex like she's not even there. But after a second, she shakes her head slowly. "I'm, um...I should sit with her."

"Alright." He casts a dubious glance at the car. "She okay?"

"No," Piper answers without even thinking, the truth of it slamming into her a second later. Her throat narrows, and she looks away, blinking fast. "She's really not."

* * *

><p>They stop at the Chapman house first, dark and quiet and lifeless, Piper's disapproving parents sleeping inside.<p>

When Cal disappears through the front door, Piper takes the drivers seat. She glances back and waits before pulling away, but Alex doesn't make any move to come join her in the front seat.

Driving to Alex's apartment, Piper keeps glancing into the rearview mirror, watching Alex's boarded up expression. She thinks suddenly about the drive back from the Death Maiden concert, the way Alex broke down in the car, the first time Piper had ever seen her cry.

It makes her want to pull the car over, just like she had all those years ago, and pull Alex against her until she shakes her out of this fog.

"Alex?"

"What?"

Piper was barely expecting a response, and for a second she fumbles for something to say. _Are you okay_ is a pointless question. "I don't know, I just...can I do anything?"

"Yeah. You can drive," she says, devoid of emotion.

"If there's anything you need from me, just...please, Al, tell me."

"I just need you to drive."

* * *

><p>It takes Alex nearly a full minute to unlock the door of her apartment, the keys rattling as her fingers shake, but she pulls away when Piper tries to help.<p>

They step inside, Alex first, and fresh grief sideswipes Piper. They haven't been here since Christmas, and it's ridiculous, because Diane's been gone for less than twenty-four hours, but the apartment seems cold and empty and unfamiliar...for about five seconds. Then Alex flicks the lights on, and Piper feels the automatic surge of comfort this place always provokes.

There's a cluster of wine glasses with different color lipstick stains around the living room coffee table, a few folding chairs set up in a circle, cards and poker chips spread out on top. Diane never used to have time for things like that, but with Alex sending her money, she's only been working one job, and only because she wanted to. So now she has - had - time to see her friends and listen to her records and watch movies and have long phone calls with her daughter, plus Piper.

Tears fill Piper's eyes and she reaches for Alex out of instinct - her own comfort in mind, not Alex's - fingers barely skimming the edge of her jacket before she shrugs away.

Her back is to Piper, so she can't see Alex's face as she drops her luggage on the couch and starts walking around the living room, picking up random dishes, cleaning up.

"Alex."

She carries the wine glasses into the kitchen.

"Alex..."

The sink turns on; Alex starts scrubbing.

"_Alex_."

Alex rounds on her, wild eyed. "_What_, Piper, fucking _what?!"_

Piper exhales, walking tentatively forward as if approaching a nervous animal. "Slow down. Sit down." Alex clenches her jaw. Her body is practically vibrating. Piper reaches for her again. "Talk to me."

Piper's fingers graze Alex's arm, and she physically flinches.

Hurt flickers across Piper's face, and her voice catches, "Alex, you're scaring me."

Through her teeth, Alex asks, "Why?"

"Because you aren't talking to me."

Alex's face twists and then hardens. "What the fuck do you want me to say, Piper? My mother just died." Just saying the words out loud seems to hurt her, and she has to suck in a stuttered breath before continuing. "And how the _hell_ am I supposed to... to fucking cry on your shoulder about that when we both know it just screwed up your clean break?"

The words puncture something in the air between them. Stricken, it takes Piper a moment to answer, her voice small and tight. "That's not fair." She shouldn't be fighting with Alex now. She should let her say whatever she wants, let her be mad all she wants if it's easier than everything else she's feeling. But Piper can't help herself. "You really believe I'm even _thinking_ about that right now? Your mom..." The syllable breaks in half. "I love your mom. And I love you. And I'm so fucking sorry this is happening and I just...I _need_ to help you and it kills me that I don't know how."

Alex's eyes squeeze shut, her body swaying unsteadily, and for a second Piper's thinks she's going to physically fall forward, into Piper's arms.

But then she opens her eye. "No." Alex pushes past Piper, like she can't even look at her when she says, "This isn't something you can just make better, Piper. And right now you're just making it worse."

A few seconds later the door to the bedroom slams shut, and Piper feels the thud in her whole body.

She slumps against the kitchen counter, drained. Her gaze lands on the refrigerator, covered in postcards; Piper remembers buying a lot of them. In the center there's a cluster of photos from when Diane came on vacation with them in Tahiti.

Piper touches the edge of a photograph she took, Alex and Diane on the beach, holding margaritas, their smiles startling in their similarities. Piper's forehead thumps against the fridge as Piper starts to sob.

She cries there for awhile, feeling almost unbearably sad, which makes her want Alex.

And that has to be the most selfish thing ever, because of course Alex has to be feeling a hundred times worse.

But that doesn't necessarily mean she wants Piper.

Piper straightens up and wipes her face with the hem of her shirt. She crosses the apartment and leans close to the bedroom door, listening but not hearing anything, not even the slightest movement. Tentatively, Piper taps her knuckles on the door. "Alex?"

When there's no answer, Piper hesitantly pushes the door open.

The room looks like it always have; even though it's been Diane's room for the past several years, all of Alex's band posters are still plastered to the walls, and her stuff is everywhere, though it's more organized: stacks of books lining the perimeter of the walls, cassette tapes towering in stacks next to the stereo.

And Alex is lying on the bed, curled up and bent like she's a hiding a wound, a hole in her a gut.

"Al?" Piper starts toward the bed. Alex doesn't look up. It takes Piper a second to realize her face is pressed against a leather jacket, her whole body quaking with silent sobs. "Oh, Alex..."

She crawls into the bed beside Alex, folding herself against her from behind, holding on. She can't stop saying Alex's name.

It takes a moment, but then Alex's fingers close around Piper's forearm in a death grip. "Piper...Pipes..." It comes out in a gasp, thick with tears and muffled into Diane's jacket.

"I know." Piper wipes her own tears on Alex's shoulder. "I'm here, Alex. I love you. I'm here."

Alex's body lurches with a soft, smothered sob, but for the most part she stays quiet. She only shakes, the crying an implosion.

Piper holds her like that for nearly an hour, until she feels Alex's breathing slow and even out as she finally cries herself to sleep in the bright light of the bedroom.

Piper's not used to being the last one awake. She's been up for over twenty-four hours, and can _feel_ the exhaustion wedged behind the grief and guilt and helplessness, but it's not breaking through. She closes her eyes and buries her face in Alex's hair, not wanting to let go of her even to get up and turn the light off.

Somehow, Piper manages a sudden, selfish thought, before falling to sleep: she'd lied earlier, that she hadn't been thinking at all about what happened between the two of them. It had been a long, quiet plane ride, and she'd spent all of it worried and scared for Alex; but underneath all that was a current of fear that Piper would never be able to muster the strength to leave her again. Especially not when Alex is going through this.

But now, in this room and bed where they've slept together hundreds of times over the past fifteen years, still one of Piper's favorite places on earth even though she's traveled the whole world over...Piper realizes something.

She won't have to leave Alex again. It was never _Alex_ she wanted to leave in the first place, not really, just parts of Alex's life. But now they're here, together, right where they'd always been. The cartel is thousands of miles away. And when this is all over, Piper can very easily _not_ buy a plane ticket, _not_ drive to the airport, _not _get on a plane

Which means Alex will have to be the one to do the leaving.

And Piper can't help but hope there's a chance Alex won't go. Especially - and she doesn't like herself for thinking it, but she thinks it anyway - especially considering what Alex is about to go through.


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N: **_Sorry for the delay on this...things have been kind of hectic, work wise, but I'm coming up on a three week holiday break, and I plan to make up for lost fic time. Enjoy!_

Piper wakes up feeling vaguely ill and not at all rested. She's alone in the bed, which is unsettling enough - Alex almost always sleeps later, and on the rare occasion she gets up first, Piper usually doesn't sleep through her getting out of bed.

She can hear the shower running, and Piper has to tamp down a desire to let herself in and join Alex. Instead, she turns her face back into the pillow, childishly wanting to go back to sleep simply to avoid facing this day.

She'd dreamt about Alex's overdose; that hasn't happened in years. All those dim, slightly warped memories of speed walking through hospital corridors in high heels - in the dreams, they're absurdly high - trying to find Diane so she can be taken to Alex. In the way that dreams come with inherent faulty logic, Piper always understands that Alex's outcome depends on her getting there in time.

Piper rolls over and ends up pulling Diane's jacket from under the sheets.

Her throat tightens instantly, as she runs her fingers over the folds of the leather, thinking of Alex last night, crying into the jacket like her heart was breaking. She folds it carefully and leaves it on Alex's pillow before finally making herself get out of bed, deciding to be useful, heading to the kitchen to see if there's anything she can turn into a decent breakfast.

Out of the blue, it occurs to Piper that she didn't ask for any details about what happened. She doesn't know if Diane died at Friendly's, where she still takes shifts three days a week, or out for a walk or poker game or margarita night with her friends...or here in the apartment, all by herself.

Piper feels sick again. She averts her gaze, trying not to look at the door of the fridge, all those postcards.

A mean streak knifes through her, and for just a second Piper catches herself wondering spitefully if Alex regrets all the jet setting her business requires since it means they've only seen her mom a few times in the past two years.

Shame chases the thought almost instantly, so strong that Piper physically shudders at herself. She drives her knuckles into the door of the refrigerator, knocking a postcard from Greece onto the floor. She kicks it under the fridge and then forces herself to turn away.

She's standing at the stove, cooking eggs with anxiety pulsing behind her eyes, when she hears Alex call her name from the bedroom, a question with a rising note of panic behind it.

"I'm in here." Piper assures her quickly. She glances back over shoulder just as Alex comes to stand in the doorway, her hair wet from the shower, dripping onto the oversized band shirt she's wearing.

Alex doesn't come any closer, and for a heavy moment they just stare at each other. It still hurts to look at her: her eyes are squinty and bloodshot, and all her muscles seem strained, but the needy desperation that had rung through her voice only a few seconds ago is absent from her expression.

"You okay?" Piper asks quietly.

"We have to go the funeral home." It's not posed as an answer, but it may as well be.

Piper's fingers close around that _we_and hold onto it, relieved that Alex says it like it's a given. That they're still a _we_. On the heels of her relief, Piper realizes that Alex hasn't once asked why she's still here, or yelled at her to get out.

"Sure," she says, forcing a small, reassuring smile. "Whenever you're ready."

Alex huffs out a short, scoff of a breath at that but doesn't say anything.

Piper turns away from the stove completely. Alex isn't looking at her anymore, is staring around the living room with a heartbreakingly lost expression, as though she's been marooned someplace entirely unfamiliar. Piper aches for her, an actual, physical ache, but she can't quite bring herself to bridge the distance between them. It's like she's looking at Alex through a pane of glass.

But she wants to help, to show she's involved, an active, supportive part of the _we_. "Have you thought any about what kind of funeral...?"

Alex flinches and doesn't answer.

"I mean, did you guys ever talk about - "

"Of _course_ we didn't fucking talk about it, Piper," Alex snaps. "She was only forty-three fucking years old." Her voice cracks. "Why the hell would we have talked about it?"

"Alex..."

"_Don't_." Alex bites out, pressing the heels of her hands over her eyes.

Piper's taken three tentative steps across the room when Alex uncovers her eyes and instinctually backs away. The movement feels like a punch in the gut.

More than anything, Piper wishes she could take the break up back. She'd been right to do it, she knows that even now, but it isn't worth this...it isn't worth feeling like she's having to frantically knot together all the recently severed threads between them just to reach Alex.

Alex shakes her head, hard, like she can shake out the emotions. Schooling her face into a blank expression, she visibly steels her shoulders before heading back to the bedroom, muttering as she goes, "I think you're burning those eggs."

Piper turns back to the stove but doesn't turn it off right away. She just stands there while the smoke makes her eyes tear, inhaling the scent of burnt eggs and feeling like she's ruining a memory.

* * *

><p>Alex wears her mom's jacket to the funeral home. Piper doesn't say anything about it, but she keeps reaching for Alex's hand and clasping her fingers around the leather sleeves instead.<p>

When they first get to the funeral home, Alex's eyes come alive with this wild, panicked light, and Piper's genuinely worried she might bolt from the room, but as soon as they sit down on an ancient couch across from the somber looking funeral director, she gets an almost defiant look in her eyes, like the man is antagonistically setting her a challenge.

Then she starts buying whatever he recommends, the highest quality coffin and headstone and service fees. Piper can sense the funeral director pick up on this, that the twenty-four year old clearly has more money to spend than he'd assumed, and he starts pitching every possible extra.

Piper wants to reign her in, point out how unnecessary this all is, how it definitely won't serve whatever purpose Alex is aiming for, but she sits silently and without protest. Piper knows better than to talk to Alex about money.

Alex stays in business mode for almost all of the meeting, and it seems to help her get through even non-monetary decisions: service a the funeral home, no minister, one of the funeral directors who's certified as a celebrant, a personal eulogy, quick burial at the graveside.

She doesn't falter until he asks about a viewing.

"Oh..." Her eyes dim and her lip trembles almost imperceptibly. When Piper curls her hand around three of Alex's fingers she doesn't pull away. "I, uh...I don't..." A muscle is jumping in her jaw. "I don't know if she'd want that, but..." Her voice trails off, and for the first time since they got there, she looks at Piper.

Mercifully, whatever barrier is wedged between them seems to fall away, and Piper instinctively realizes what Alex is thinking: she needs to see her mother again.

Piper squeezes her fingers, then turns to the funeral director. "Is it possible to do just a...private viewing? Not open it up to everyone at the funeral?"

"Of course," the man answers smoothly. "Whatever you'd prefer. We can set aside time for a private viewing before the service, just the family."

Alex isn't looking at anyone; Piper gives her hand another squeeze, asking gently, "That okay with you?"

"Yeah." Alex flashes Piper a quick look of gratitude, so sincere it makes her heart turn over. "That'd be fine."

A few minutes later, she gets her checkbook out, and the steely glint comes back into her eyes. Piper stays quiet, trying to hide her wince at the numbers on the check.

* * *

><p>Alex doesn't talk in the car ride back to the apartment, just glares out the window while Piper drives. They keep the radio off.<p>

When they pull into the parking lot of the apartment building, Alex breaks the silence out of nowhere, "What was that look on your face?"

Piper slides a glance at her. "What look?"

"When we were about to leave." When Piper doesn't jump in to explain God knows what look, Alex clarifies, "That fucking holier-than-thou judgey look you get."

Piper parks the car, pulls the keys out, and unbuckles her seat belt, but Alex is still staring expectantly, her glare demanding an answer. It's the longest she's looked at Piper all day.

Piper sighs. "Al, it's not a big deal, I just...did you really _need_ to buy the most expensive everything?"

Alex stiffens, and Piper instantly regrets saying it. If her goal was to deter Alex's spending, she should have spoken up before the check was signed, but she didn't, so mentioning it now is only about getting a word in.

She touches Alex's arm, tone soothing and conciliatory, "Al, I'm sorry, I just...I know you want it to be perfect, that you want to do it right, but...your mom wouldn't care how much you spent...she doesn't need that."

Silence hovers between them for a few moments, and then Alex jerks away from Piper's touch.

"Screw you," she growls, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind her with unnecessary force.

Stomach knotting, Piper trails after her into the apartment. Alex waits until the door closes before she rounds on Piper, eyes blazing. "You want to talk to me about what my mom needed? She needed a _fucking house_, Piper! And I was _so _goddamn close but I never got a chance to buy her one, so why the fuck not spend the money on a goddamn fucking top of the line _casket _and _gravestone_ because that is the only thing she _needs_ now!"

She's crying by the time she finishes. They both are.

"Alex..." Piper chokes out, reaching for her, but Alex paces away, uninterested, muttering to herself, voice thick with tears.

"I can't fucking stand this place, I just wanted her out of here, this fucking _piece_ of _shit_ apartment - "

"_Stop it_," Piper bursts out before she can stop herself. "Don't say that, Alex, it's not fair, I...I _love_ this place."

"Well good for you, Pipes, you never had to fucking live here."

"That doesn't _matter_. I've spent a _lot_ of nights here, for fifteen fucking years, I'm allowed to love it. We've been all over the world, we've seen practically everywhere that's beautiful - "

"Thanks to _me._"

Piper ignores that and plows on. "- and this apartment is still my favorite place." She softens her tone, swiping her sleeve across her soaked cheeks. "The first time we kissed? Right _there_." She nods at the kitchen, then turns to the record player, on the bottom shelf under Diane's record collection. "Every band I love, you introduced me to in this room. Every New Year's Eve, every Fourth of July, we spent on your roof. God, Alex, we had sex for the first time here, and a few hundred times after that - "

"Oh, _fuck_ off, Piper," Alex is practically sobbing the words, but her face is contorted with fury. "You don't get to act like that should matter to me anymore, cause it sure as hell doesn't matter to you."

It stings like a slap, and Piper closes her eyes briefly, telling herself that this is the grief talking, that she can't take it personally.

"That's not true. And you know it."

"I don't know _shit_."

A crooked, helpless sound lurches from Piper's throat. "Well, _I_ know I was happy almost every second I was here. And you were happy a lot of the time, too, and so was your mom - "

"Don't talk to me about my mom - "

"Don't talk to _me_ like she was some stranger I barely knew." Her voice breaks, tears surging fresh.

Alex's face twists, the rage in her eyes fully igniting. "Fuck you. Yeah, you know what, Piper, my mom loved you. But only because I wanted her to, so I didn't tell her everything. In high school, when we stopped talking...I didn't tell her it was because you were a bitch who decided you were done with me. And when we broke up, I didn't say you fucking ran off to school without telling me, that I had to follow you just to get left again. I never let her in on how fucked you could be."

The slaps are coming hard and fast, and Piper's got her arms wrapped around her stomach, protectively.

It's the grief talking, just the grief, it _is_, but Piper doesn't know how to not take this personally. It's the most personal thing there is.

She sucks in a stuttering, sob of a breath, and turns on her heel, heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" The change in Alex's tone startles Piper into stillness. The question is shot through with panic, her voice high and wavering and wet.

Piper exhales slowly, then turns around to meet Alex's eyes, all the fight drained from her voice. She speaks slowly, overly calm. "I need to at least go say hello to my parents. And it seems like maybe...you don't want me here, right now, at this moment."

Alex's face tightens; it couldn't be more obvious how untrue that is.

It's completely unfair to want anything from Alex right now, to expect her to do anything more than simply get through this, but Piper wishes Alex would just _ask_ her to stay.

She waits long enough, but Alex doesn't correct her, doesn't ask for anything.

"I'll be back," Piper promises anyway, just before she closes the door.

* * *

><p>For the past two years, the visits to her parents when she and Alex are in town are brief and perfunctory. She's half convinced they'd be properly estranged if it wouldn't look bad to the neighbors.<p>

So they keep up appearances, but behind closed doors, her parents are shockingly uninterested in how she and Alex are sustaining themselves for two years worth of travel. Piper tends to imply that they're working their way around Europe, staying at hostels long term and working brief gigs, teaching English or waitressing at cafes, but they don't even seem interested in the lie.

But today Piper goes straight to the kitchen and hugs her mom hard, full up with sentiment for about thirty seconds until Carol, patting her stiffly on the arm, says archly, "Well I was _hoping_ you might eventually stop by."

Just like that, Pipe defaults back to irritated bemusement. "I've been with Alex, Mom. At the _funeral home._"

"Yes, Cal told us about Diane. Horrible. And she was quite young, too, wasn't she?" Piper's not sure if that's meant as a dig or if she's just oversensitive. Either way, she shrugs away from her mother. "How is Alex?"

"Not good."

"When's the service?"

"Saturday." Two days away, so the paper can run the info tomorrow. Carol nods, and without thinking, Piper blurts out, "You don't have to come."

"Don't be silly, Piper, of course we have to go. We've known Alex for years."

Piper suppresses an eyeroll, because a better answer would be that Alex is dating their daughter (maybe, possibly, as far as they know), but Alex hasn't been in the Chapman house in years. Every tie they've come back to the States since Piper's college graduation, she's gone off for the obligatory visits on her own, reluctantly leaving Diane and Alex in the apartment. She always invites Alex, especially for Christmas dinner, not wanting to seem like she's shutting her out, but Alex never wants to come. Not that Piper can blame her.

"Your dad won't be home for a few hours," Carol tells her, eyebrows high.

"I know. I'll wait..." Then, though her mother doesn't seem to be wondering, Piper explains, "I'm letting Alex have some alone time."

Carol nods like that's perfectly reasonable, but Piper can feel her gut coiling with knots of guilt anyway. She hadn't waited five minutes after getting back from a goddamn funeral home before leaving Alex alone in an apartment full of Diane's stuff.

But there's an unmistakable relief in getting away, and Piper wasn't exactly unaware that it would be a few hours before she'd be able to see her dad.

She can hear music from somewhere in the house, and she wants to retreat upstairs and hide out with her brother for a few hours, maybe dip into his stash of weed and hide from the whole damn world, but she thinks of Alex crying into her mom's jacket and makes herself stand in the kitchen with her own mother, asking questions and offering stories and making a fractured attempt to catch up.

* * *

><p>She and Cal drive to see their grandmother, and end up bringing her back to the house for dinner. Piper keeps her phone in her hand the whole night, trying to believe that Alex would call if she really needed her.<p>

She's been gone over four hours when she finally leaves; her mom sends her off with a stack of casserole trays and tupperware containers to take to Alex's, less of a thoughtful gesture than her need to follow protocol.

Piper feels split at the seams during the drive back to Alex's, equally torn between relief and dread, driving above the speed limit and cursing red lights even as she fights off periodic urges to drive off course, circle backroads just to put off her arrival.

* * *

><p>Piper tenses up when she enters the apartment, like any number of unknown disasters could have erupted in her absence. But Alex is just sitting on the couch smoking, even though she quit years ago. It's strangely familiar, and for a second Piper feels comforted, but then she starts taking in the details: overflowing ashtray, nearly empty bottle of vodka, leather jacket clutched in Alex's lap.<p>

"Hey."

"Hey," Alex doesn't even glance over. Piper could be anyone.

Hesitantly, she sits down beside Alex on the couch. They sit in silence for awhile, Piper watching Alex chain smoke. At one point the landline rings, and when Alex doesn't react, Piper half rises to get it.

"Don't," Alex mutters almost absently. "People have been calling all afternoon, I had to unplug the answering machine."

"What people?"

"Mom's friends. They can read the paper to figure out when the funeral is. And I don't need food."

Piper casts a doubtful glance at the phone. "I can handle the calls if you don't want to -"

"Fuck, Pipes, just ignore it."

The ringing stops. They go back to their silence. Suddenly, randomly, Piper misses music.

Ten minutes later, there's a knock on the door. Alex closes her eyes for a second, but then she stands up to answer it, not looking at all surprised.

"Alex," the pizza guy at the door nods in greeting, stepping fully into the apartment with his bag. Piper frowns as Alex takes out her wallet, handing over a stack of bills that Piper is pretty sure includes at least one fifty.

Then the pizza guy unzips his bag, pulling out three pizza boxes and handing them to Alex before his hand emerges again, holding a small plastic bag.

Alex flicks a glance over, expecting a reaction, but Piper's mind feels wiped blank with shock.

Alex takes the bag and replaces the pizza boxes as the guy holds the flap open. She nods at him. "Thanks, Mitch."

"Gimme a call if you need more."

When he goes Alex turns to face Piper, her posture already defensive.

And suddenly all of Piper's sympathy and concern goes on mute, and she shoots to her feet, anger flaring. "What the _fuck_."

Alex's voice is so damn tired. "Fuck off, Pipes, just leave it alone..."

"I will _not_ leave it alone. You fucking idiot asshole." Her chest is heaving, her every word spiked with anger. In a quick, childish motion, Piper seizes Alex's wrist, using her other hand to forcibly pry Alex's fingers open. Her knuckles go white as she tightens her grip on the bag, and for a second they struggle, like six year olds fighting over a toy.

"You _promised_, Alex!" Piper's voice splinters, hot tears forming in her eyes.

Pain splashes across Alex's expression. Up close, her eyes are unfocused and her breath smells like vodka. "I promised my _mom_. And I kept that promise. And now I don't have to anymore."

"You promised me, too!" Piper's yelling now.

Alex's eyes go icy. "Sorry if I don't give much of a shit about anything I ever promised you."

"Do you not give a shit about your life either?!"

"At the moment, not particularly ."

Blood red rage bleeds into Piper's vision. "_Fuck_ _you." _ Almost against her own volition, Piper lets go of Alex's hands and shoves her. Alex stumbles back, surprised enough that her grip loosens, and Piper reaches out to easily pluck the bag of powder from Alex's hand. Alex makes a low, stuck sound of protest, making a grab for it, and Piper instinctively shoves her again, not hard, but Alex is drunk and distracted and so she ends up on the floor.

Piper gasps, snatching her hands behind her back like she's afraid of what they might do, the bag still clutched between her fingers.

Alex doesn't make a move to get up. Instead she starts to cry, sobbing like a little kid, looking small and forlorn huddled on the floor. Piper's chest feels cracked wide open, tears streaming down her own cheeks. She's never seen Alex cry this much; she wonder if she'll ever be able to watch it without following suit.

She makes herself walk past Alex and doesn't look back even when Alex chokes out her name. She pours the heroin into the toilet, flushes twice, and then goes back to the living room.

Alex is still on the floor, still crying, crying so Piper can actually hear it, and she kneels behind her on the carpet, hooking her chin over Alex's shoulder and wrapping her arms around her. Alex wilts against her immediately, and Piper feels herself unconsciously rocking back and forth, whispering apologies and reassurances.

They stay like that for nearly five minutes, and then Alex says softly, her voice scraped raw, "I shouldn't have said that about lying to my mom...she really loved you."

"I know she did," Piper answers shakily, kissing Alex's temple. "You know why?" She weaves her fingers through Alex's hair. "Because she saw how much I loved you."

She feels Alex shudder. "Pipes..."

"I mean it. When you were in the hospital, she started telling me about when you guys first moved here, when you and I met. And how glad she was that we became friends. She said she'd always worried about you being a lonely kid, by yourself in the apartment so much - "

"So you're saying my mom thought I was a friendless loser?" Alex glances back, giving Piper a hollow, exhausted smile, and it makes Piper want to cry again.

She smiles instead. "She also told me you freaked out when you thought you might have to move away from me in fifth grade. Proving what I always suspected...you already loved me when we were ten."

Alex lets out a short, surprised laugh; in that moment, Piper would do anything for her. She'd follow Alex around the world another dozen times, on the off chance she could make her laugh again.


	4. Chapter Three

"They were at the mall."

Alex's unprompted statement breaks a ten minutes silence. Piper looks at her. "Who?"

"Her and Beth and somebody else. Phoebe, I think. I don't know where exactly it happened. My aunt didn't know anything else. Beth keeps calling, but I haven't...I can't talk to her yet."

They're lying on the twin bed, facing each other, so close Piper's going slightly cross eyed trying to hold Alex's gaze.

"I think it was...fast." Alex's lip trembles. "My aunt said it was."

"Well...that's good, at least?"

A tear falls and pools beneath Alex's eye, then slides over the bridge of her nose. Piper thumbs it away.

"It doesn't feel real."

"I know."

"My cell phone rang earlier and for a second I thought it was her. Like, _really _thought so. I always think it's her calling."

Piper's chest spasms involuntarily. She shuffles a little closer to Alex to hide the movement; their noses bump. Alex traces a strand of Piper's hair to its end, then tucks it behind her ear. They're quiet for a bit.

"It's not gonna get better, you know," Piper whispers suddenly. "Not for awhile."

The muscles in Alex's face tense, expression pained, but she laughs weakly. "Kicking me when I'm down, Pipes?"

Piper doesn't smile. "I just mean...you can't do drugs every time it hurts too much, Alex."

Alex's eyes dart away, and she rolls over on her back, staring up at the ceiling, freckled with plastic stars that barely glow anymore.

The past rolls out in front of Piper, a pattern forming for maybe the first time. Alex after their fight in high school: swigging vodka from water bottles or smoking pot in the school bathroom, tripping on LSD on a stranger's porch. Alex unconscious and barely breathing in the bathroom of this apartment. And now, today, calling some local contact from ages ago to get heroin, binge drinking to hold herself over until it got there.

Before, Piper had only been focused on her own guilt - or a defiant rejection of that guilt. She'd never taken herself out of the equation and figured out what all that says about Alex.

Just as she's given up on Alex acknowledging the comment, when she asks quietly, the question directed at the ceiling, "What do _you_ do?"

"When?"

"When it hurts too much."

"I...I don't know. Pretend it doesn't, I guess." She's quiet for a moment. "That or hit things." She lifts her hand and makes a fist, drawing Alex's attention back. The skin is faintly purple between her third and fourth knuckles. Alex's eyebrows draw together, and she meets Piper's eyes, questioning. "I punched the fridge."

Alex takes the proffered hand, brushing her thumb delicately over the bruise. "Does that help?"

She turns the question over before softly admitting, "Not really, no."

"Drugs do," Alex replies grimly. She lets that disconcerting statement settle for a moment before adding, "You have no idea, it's like...it mutes everything bad."

Piper's quiet for a moment, her heart slamming painfully in her chest. She isn't sure if Alex is merely explaining, wanting Piper to understand, or if she's excusing something that still may happen.

Finally, Piper says in careful, halting sentences, "I know this isn't about me. And I know you said you don't care about anything you promised me." Alex purses her lips, looking like she's trying to decide whether to amend that. Piper doesn't give her a chance. "But, Alex, you'd have to _hate_ me - ." Her voice cracks, and it takes a second before she can continue, "I don't care if that's selfish. I just don't. You almost died, and it was the worst night of my life. You made a promise to _me_ it wouldn't happen again. And you'd have to seriously hate me to not care about that." Alex is looking at the ceiling again, face tight and hard to read. Piper softens her voice, nerves clinging to the edge of the words. "And I'm at least seventy-five percent sure you don't hate me." Alex turns to face her, but she doesn't say anything. Piper forces a clumsy smile, but her tone is less joking than she intends. "Maybe fifty percent sure."

"_Moron,_" Alex whispers. She kicks Piper's shin under the covers, then shuffles a little closer, draping her leg over Piper's. "I love you."

Piper wishes Alex didn't sound sad about it.

* * *

><p>She wakes up first the next morning, with Alex tucked into her side. Piper doesn't get out of bed; she takes excessive care to stay perfectly still, thinking that Alex deserves to sleep through as much of this day as possible, but less than an hour later she stirs.<p>

Piper keeps her gaze trained on Alex's face, watching her slow crawl into reality: there's a moment the sleepy haze fades from Alex's eyes, and for just a second, her expression is clear. Then the storm clouds move in, as Alex wakes up enough to remember.

"Hey," she mumbles.

"Morning." Piper leans forward a few degrees, lips parted, but she stops herself. They haven't kissed in three days, in spite of being constantly together. It's like they're fifteen years old again.

Alex's eyebrow arches, her face flickering with a ghost of a typical Alex Smirk, but she doesn't bust Piper on the near miss.

Recovering herself, Piper lifts herself up on her elbow. "So. What do you want to do today?" She makes a face the second the question is out; it sounds too casual and flippant, as if they're on vacation.

But Alex frowns thoughtfully, seeming to genuinely consider the question. "There's so much shit to get done. I have to talk to a lawyer, and I have to figure out what to do with the apartment..." Piper's stomach swoops unpleasantly at that, but Alex doesn't linger on it. "But the fucking funeral is tomorrow, and every time I think about it I want to..." She trails off with a hollow laugh, shaking her head slightly. Piper's stomach sinks even lower, wondering if the unspoken end of that sentence has something to do with drugs, with letting them mute what's bad. "So I'd just really fucking love to not do anything hard today. I want to pretend I'm not in the middle of a huge fucking tragedy and just...do nothing all day."

Piper half-smiles. "So...movies? Take out?"

Alex nods immediately, grateful. "Leave the phone off the hook and that sounds perfect."

* * *

><p>They drive to the Blockbuster a few blocks away, and Piper turns on the radio. It feels good, like breaking a too long silence.<p>

They walk through rows of VHS and DVD shelves, picking up any movie they used to watch as kids. They'd had a rotation of five or six movies they rented over and over, and Piper finds all of them. Alex grabs a box of every kind of candy on the racks, and tosses them one by one on the counter, while the teenage employee with a lip ring stares dryly at them. They pick up pizza and beer, and Piper even cranks up the volume a little on the ride home. Alex yanks out the telephone line before they settle onto the couch and turn on _Dazed and Confused_.

By the time they move on to _Reality Bites, _the pizza boxes are empty and they're pouring each other handfuls of Sour Patch Kids and Junior Mints.

Alex stretches half the length of the couch with her knees drawn up, leaning back against Piper's chest. Piper drapes her arm around Alex and hides a traitorous smile in her hair.

It wouldn't be honest to pretend she didn't love the travel. It's easier, sometimes, to spin a narrative that she gave up everything to be with Alex, to mold her life entirely to what Alex wanted. But Piper had loved it, for a long time. Her last year of college, staring at a wall of Alex's postcards, she'd craved those places, the adventures, nearly as much as she'd longed for Alex.

It had taken over a year for the novelty to wear off, and even then she probably would have stayed happy if Alex had as much free time as she did, or if they hadn't started to stay in places long enough that it stopped feeling like a vacation. Piper had still loved the glamour and nightlife and excitement.

But something about this, right here, feels so damn satisfying, like she was missing it without even knowing. It's _them_, stripped down to basics.

She's looping her fingers absently through Alex's hair, almost absurdly content, when suddenly, for no reason, she catches herself in that feeling.

Just like that, hot guilt smothers all traces of happiness, so strong and sudden that Piper can't see straight.

Because everything about this feels familiar, except now Diane isn't coming home to drop off food and change uniforms between jobs. She won't come home from a late shift to find them still watching movies at three am, and she won't jokingly tell them to get the hell off her bed or she'll take theirs.

So what fucking right does Piper have to be so happy?

* * *

><p>She starts thinking about the summer before sixth grade, when she was practically living at Alex's apartment. Usually they split pretty evenly, alternating Friday night sleepovers: the Chapman house one weekend, the Vause apartment the next.<p>

But that summer, Piper hadn't wanted to be anywhere near her own house. Her father was hardly ever home - in retrospect, she assumes he was in the early stages of a new affair - and her mother had seemed even more unreachable than usual. Piper hadn't even known how to describe it at the time, but she knew her house seemed to hold a bad feeling.

Alex had finally gotten past all traces of tension about Piper coming over, and when Piper continually expressed a preference to hang out at Alex's, she never protested, never asked why, just agreed, seeming to understand that it mattered. There were stretches of three or four days where Piper didn't go home. Her mother would have killed her if she knew what they were doing; namely, eating fast food for every meal, drinking soda to help stay up all night, or riding their bikes out of Alex's neighborhood and all the way to Friendly's to visit Diane.

She had still gone to camp for a week, just like she and her brothers did every summer. Two days after getting home, she was back at Alex's to spend the night. They were sitting on the couch eating cherry popsicles and playing Speed when Diane came home from work. She'd smiled delightedly at Piper, wrapped her up in a hug and said how good it was to see her. "I kept tellin' Al I'd forgot what it was like to only have _one_ daughter. Not sure I like it anymore."

Piper's happiness in that moment could have practically launched her into the sun.

* * *

><p>She barely pays attention to the rest of the movie, just sits there picking apart memories, bowled over with missing Diane. It's the purest she's the grief has felt, not cut through with guilt or confusion or even concern for Alex. This is just hers.<p>

And it makes her feel about five years old. Childishly, she wants someone to hug her, to feel sad for her, to let her cry on their shoulder and say it's going to be okay.

But Alex is laughing quietly at the movie, and she already said she wanted the day to be free of tragedy. And even if she hadn't, Piper can't expect Alex to comfort _her_ over this.

But goddamn she wants to be comforted.

When the credits roll over that Lisa Loeb song, Alex moves away to change out the movies. Piper's gaze instinctively skirts away, sure if Alex makes eye contact she'll see straight through Piper, right into the avalanche going on inside her chest.

"You want to do _The_ _Professional,_ _Edward Scissorhands _or_ Clueless _next?" _  
><em>

For the first time, Piper can really hear the fragility in Alex's forced calm, can hear how hard she's having to work to keep it up. Piper wants to go along with it, she really does, but right now all her willpower is going into not crying.

But Alex is waiting for an answer, so Piper swallows against the lump in her throat and plasters on a smile. "Has it been long enough since lunch for us to think about dinner?"

Alex lifts an eyebrow. "Wu Palace takeout?"

"Perfect." Piper hesitates, giving herself one more chance to suck it up. She can't. "Would you be okay if I stopped by my grandmother's?" Alex's casual expression falters slightly. "Just for a half hour or so, and I'll pick up the food after. I haven't seen her yet, and I'm sure my parents have told her I'm here by now." The lie comes out easily; she really is going to her grandmother's, she just won't tell Alex the real reason.

Alex nods, recovering easily. "Yeah, of course. Take your time."

"You can start another movie - "

"No, it's fine. I'll wait."

* * *

><p>Piper rings the doorbell three times before her grandmother opens it, an expression of irritation on her face before she realizes who it is. She immediately beams at her granddaughter. "Sweetheart, what a nice surprise. You know you could have brought Alex with you."<p>

"She's - " Piper doesn't even get to a second word before a crooked sound lurches out of her and she starts to sob.

"Honey!" Her tone mixing bewilderment and concern, her grandmother puts an arm around her, like Piper isn't a head taller, and leads her into the house to sit down on her ancient floral couch. "What's wrong?"

Piper shakes her head hard, sending tears flying. "Diane..."

"That's Alex's mom?"

She nods, choking out gaspy, wavering sentences. "She was really great. And I really loved her. It hadn't really hit me, because...I'm so, _so_ worried about Alex, and obviously it's _her_ mom, so I'm not allowed to put any of this on her. And I feel like I can't explain to my parents, why I'm so upset..."

"Well, you don't have to explain yourself to me," her grandmother says firmly. "You knew her more than half your life, sweetie. Of course you're sad. Now..." She pats Piper's hand. "Tell me about Diane."

So Piper tells her about Diane sneaking her free desserts or extra fries at Friendly's, her record collection and endless stories about concerts, the way she used to listen to all their grievances about teachers and fly right back with gossip about her coworkers. She talks about her vacation in Tahiti and last year's Christmas Eve and even that night at the hospital.

She doesn't realize how long she's been talking until her cell phone rings. _Alex Calling_ is lit up on the screen, and above it the time shows that she's been here for over an hour.

"Shit," she mutters, then glances at her grandmother. "Sorry."

"Language doesn't shock me, Pipe."

Piper's voice sounds scraped raw, and she knows Alex will be able to tell she's been crying. She silences the phone, instinctively scrubbing at her face. "I need to go..."

Her grandmother studies her, then seems to decide against asking questions. "Okay, sweetheart. You gonna be alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks for this."

"Anytime, baby."

* * *

><p>"Hey, I'm really sorry...you know how my grandmother is, she wanted to hear about everything. But I come bearing food!" Her too wide smile wilts. Alex's eyes are red, and there's a stack of records on the floor by the record player. "Were you - ?"<p>

Alex cuts her off, taking one of the bags of takeout from Piper and sitting down on the couch, nodding for Piper to join. "Don't apologize, I told you to take your time. Let's start a movie."

They pick up where they left off, but it's all wrong now. They sit nearly a full couch cushion apart, and neither of them even pretend to enjoy it. When one movie ends, Alex puts in another one without comment.

They fall asleep on opposite ends of the couch during the sixth movie of the day, and when Piper wakes up a few hours later, Alex isn't there anymore.

"Al?" she mumbles groggily, sitting up on the couch.

There's a glow from across the room; Alex is sitting at the desktop computer - one of her Christmas gifts to her mom last year - staring intently at the screen.

Piper steps over takeout boxes and crosses the room. "Hey..." She touches Alex lightly between the shoulder blades, squinting over her shoulder at the computer screen: the time clock in the corner says 3:24. There's a page up that says _Eulogy Examples - Tips for a Memorable Tribute_. Piper throat narrows. "What are you doing?"

Alex face is pale in the glowing light of the computer. Her glasses are on top of her head, and her eyes seem too big, almost manic. "I forgot I'm supposed to do a eulogy," she mutters, barely sounding like she's talking to Piper. "...don't know why I'd say that, I have no idea how they go, I've never even been to a fucking funeral."

Piper squeezes her shoulder. "It doesn't matter - "

"It _does_ matter!" Alex jerks away violently, shaking the computer table. They both freeze.

"I just meant there aren't rules for it," Piper clarifies softly after a tense beat. "Whatever you say, it's going to be fine. You can do this."

Alex face slowly crumples, childlike. "But I don't want to."

Tears stinging her eyes, Piper slips an arm around Alex from behind. "I know."

She _had_ been surprised in the funeral home when Alex had said she'd give a eulogy, but compared to the money she was throwing around for everything else, it hadn't been what stuck with Piper. Still, standing up in front of a room full of people to talk about her relationship with her mom doesn't seem like Alex. Piper would have expected her to suffer through the funeral in withdrawn, tight jawed silence, trying to avoid conversations and condolences as much as possible, resenting any intrusion on her grief.

But it has seemed like she was agreeing to anything she thought was expected; still trying to give her mom the best of everything.

Piper kisses the side of Alex's head. "Tomorrow's for _you_, Alex." The dark seems to make her instinctively whisper. "No one else there matters, okay? So you can say two sentences and sit back down, or you can talk nonstop for hours. Whatever you want. And if you need to, you can pretend you're just talking to me."

Alex doesn't answer, but she leans back a little, putting her weight against Piper. Aching with her own helplessness, Piper tightens her grip and presses her face into Alex's hair.

In a swift, startling motion, Alex whirls around, her face a blur before her lips crash into Piper's

Piper kisses back, pure instinct. Alex's mouth is greedy, ferocious; she sucks Piper's lip between her teeth, and lets out a low whine that vibrates against Piper's tongue, a small, frightened sound.

"Alex..." Piper pulls away just enough to murmur her name, with Alex insistently closing the gap after every word. "Alex...hey..."

Alex groans quietly, wrenching her lips away just enough to press her forehead against Piper's. "Please," she says thickly. "Pipes, please." She fists the neck of Piper's shirt and tugs, so very desperate, kissing her again with fierce, bruising need.

After a minute or two, Alex moves away, pulling her own shirt over her head and discarding it. Her bra follows in two seconds, and then she stands up from the computer chair. She laces her fingers with Piper's and leads her to the couch, her free hand unbuttoning her own jeans. She stops in front of the couch and pulls them down, kicking them haphazardly across the living room. She falls onto the couch and tugs Piper onto her lap, peeling Piper's shirt off and unhooking her bra before kissing her again.

This isn't Alex; Alex is all seduction and teasing, but she's acting like they're running a race. Piper kisses back, because there's nothing else for her to do.

Alex tastes like salt. Cradling Alex's face, Piper catches a tear with her thumb, and in response Alex reaches up, grabbing her wrist, and moves Piper's hand between her legs, holding it there.

Piper goes still, leaning away to peer down at Alex, her hair falling like a curtain around them. "Alex..."

"_Please_." Alex stares up at her, her face falling open into raw, scorching need. Her voice is coming apart at the seams, "Make it stop."

Emotion swells in Piper's throat. She runs her thumb along Alex's cheekbone, soothing and tender. As if in response, Alex slides forward on the couch and leans back, opening her legs and arching into Piper's hand, an instruction.

Piper obliges, her fingers finding heat, their press unusually tentative. She leans over, their torsos pressed together, and kisses Alex deeply, like she can pour all the comfort she wishes she knew how to give into it. Alex sharpens the kiss, turning it forceful and graceless. She rolls her hips in command, and Piper increases the pressure, stroking a slow, steady rhythm. Alex disengages their lips, tipping her head forward to lightly nip a trail across Piper's shoulder.

Then all at once Alex stops; her body goes limp, muscles slacking, like exhaustion is injected into her veins. Her forehead thumps against Piper's shoulder, and she buries her face against Piper's collarbone. Their skin is feverish and slick, flush against each other, with Piper's arm wedged in between. Piper clumsily adjusts her grip before slipping her fingers inside. Instantly, Alex makes a sound, muffled against Piper's skin.

Piper moves as much as she can in the confined space, circling the heel of her hand against Alex's clit, thinking all the while: _make it stop._ She thinks about Alex holding a bag of heroin and grinds harder.

Make it stop, make it better, fucking _fix_ it.

Her right hand swims through Alex's hair, gentle and soothing, a stark contrast to the intense, determined motion of her left. Alex's legs start to shake, and Piper whispers her name, again and again, but Alex doesn't look up; she wishes she could see her face.

Alex wants to escape, to mute everything bad. Piper wants to comfort her.

She's not sure if they can both have what they want.

The muscles in Piper's arm are starting to ache from the awkward angle, so she withdraws her hand and wipes her fingers on the couch cushion. Alex lifts her head at the sudden absence, her eyes unfocused and far away. Equal parts plea and order, she says between her teeth, "Don't stop."

Piper kisses her a promise, a reassurance, then scoots backward off the couch, on her knees on the carpet between Alex's legs. Alex lets her head roll back, tilted upward. Her eyes are swollen and bloodshot, but somehow she's achingly, unnervingly beautiful like this, her skin pale and slick with sweat, illuminated in the streetlights filtered through the living room blinds.

Piper slides her hands along Alex's legs, nudging them further apart as she settles between, then presses a soft, reverent kiss to her inner thigh. "Alex..."

"Just make me come." Alex sounds so, so empty. Piper lifts her head, trying to catch Alex's eye, but she's staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Ignoring the sick, hollow feeling in her stomach, Piper lowers her mouth onto Alex, and her hips twitch at the first contact. Piper's tongue begins to stroke and swirl, and she can hear Alex making sounds like broken gasps, and damn it, it has _never_ been like this between them. The mechanics are the same; she knows exactly which motion will send Alex's hips bucking, what speed and rhythm will make her let out that low, throaty sound that nearly makes Piper come undone. But somehow it feels almost clinical, empty of heat or playfulness or even desire.

Piper scoots back and lifts her head, eyes silently begging Alex to give her _something_.

Alex huffs out a sharp, impatient sigh, then says in a strained voice, "_Piper_."

"I...I can't," Piper whispers in a small voice. "Not like this."

An angry, frustrated growl curls from deep in Alex's throat. "Are you fucking serious?"

"I'm sorry. But, Alex...it's like you're not even here."

Finally, Alex's head snaps up. She squints at Piper, angry but scrutinizing, like she's trying to gauge whether there's a point to arguing.

Her eyes flash and then harden, and Alex reaches across the couch, grabbing Piper's shirt and bra and hurling them at her. "Fine."

Alex looks away, jerking her legs out from under Piper's touch and swinging them up on the couch. She lets her head fall back, closes her eyes, and slides her own hand between her legs.

Piper sits on the floor beside the couch, her legs drawn up, clutching her shirt and bra with a white knuckled grip. She drops her forehead against her knees, oddly ashamed of herself. She doesn't watch as Alex finishes what she couldn't, but it takes maybe thirty seconds before she hears Alex come with a sound indistinguishable from a sob.

When it's over, neither of them move: Alex flat on her back on the couch, Piper three inches away on the floor, curled into a ball. Silence settles over the apartment, sliced through with their harsh, trembling breaths, out of sync. Piper can still taste Alex on her lips until a silent, steady stream of tears washes it away.


	5. Chapter Four

It takes Piper less than an hour to think the awful, selfish thought: she isn't making Alex want to stay.

The realization cartwheels through her stomach, dripping panic, and it makes Piper want to jump to her feet and crawl on top of Alex on the couch, have a do over, give her whatever she needs.

Piper gets as far as lifting her head and twisting around to look at Alex; she's asleep on the couch, naked and pale and vulnerable, and unfettered need breaks open inside Piper's chest. Her fingers stretch on their own accord, desperate to touch her.

Alex's hair is splayed out on the couch cushion, and with painstakingly gentleness, Piper touches the pads of her fingers to edge of the strands, making sure not to do anything Alex will feel.

Piper isn't sure why she's like this, _how_ she's like this, constantly pushing and pulling between selfish and selfless. She wants Alex to need her enough to stay, and surely that requires some sick secret hope that Alex stays broken.

But then Piper looks at her, and she's sure the force of Alex's hurt is going to break her own heart clean in two.

After awhile, Piper finds her cell phone on the floor and checks the time; it's nearly five am. They have to be at the funeral home at ten for the private viewing. Dread shoots through Piper as the day and everything it holds stretches out before her. She looks at Alex again, wishing they could both just sleep through this.

Piper pulls her shirt back on, finally, and then stands up, careful to stay quiet as she creeps across the apartment and into the bedroom. She can't quite bring herself to crawl into the bed without Alex, but she crosses the dark room to kneel beside the pile of their suitcases.

Alex's clothes are spilling out of the luggage; Piper picks through the bundle, randomly pulling out a black dress of Alex's that she loves. It makes her suddenly, absurdly miss Paris. Or London, or Bali, or Greece...anywhere but here.

Her inappropriate contentment during the movie earlier feels like it happened years ago, and now all Piper wants is to be thousands of miles away, lost in flashing lights and blaring music of some nightclub. She wants Alex in this dress, Alex laughing against her neck, Alex's hands roaming her body, Alex grinding her hips, both of them playing a game of chicken until someone loses and grabs the other by the wrist, pulling her to a bathroom to shut themselves into a stall.

Piper pulls a thin, lacey sleeve absently between two fingers and closes her eyes, thinking about the last time she saw Alex in this dress, reliving that night's bathroom stall excursion. She hates herself a little bit for thinking about this now, hours before Diane's funeral, but she needs to get tonight's version of Alex - shut down, empty, _unfamiliar_ - out of her head.

Eventually she puts the dress back and circles the room again, ending up on the floor in the corner, on her knees next to Alex's stereo. She plugs a pair of Alex's old, huge Walkman headphones into the audio jack and presses play without checking what's in the cassette deck. The Clash bursts to life against her ears; they were never one of her favorites of Alex's bands, but as soon as the sound hits her, Piper feels almost dizzy with relief. She always pictures this apartment as full of music, and she's missed it. The Clash may as well be a security blanket.

As the song plays, Piper starts sifting through the rest of the tapes. Usually, she looks for Alex's handwriting, and can usually find a few with her own name written on the label in the familiar all caps scrawl. But now she looks for the tapes with the older, peeling labels, titles scrawled in faded pen: Diane's tapes.

She finds one labeled _A__lex - 1981, _which would put Alex at maybe a year old. Piper quickly swaps out the tapes, suddenly desperate to hear whatever Diane was playing for Alex when she was a baby.

_Wild Horses_ comes on, and it's instantly familiar: Alex loves this song. Piper turns up the volume and leans back against the wall, eyes closed.

She listens to the tape all the way through. A lot of the songs Piper knows; they're the slower, softer songs from some of Alex's favorite bands, The Rolling Stones and Zeppelin and The Who. Some songs she remembers Diane playing on the records in the living room, singing along to _A Case Of You_ or _Shelter from the Storm_. Others surprise her: Alex has never been into The Beatles, as far as Piper knows, but "Blackbird", "Dear Prudence", and "Hey Jude" all make appearances.

Her eyes brim over with tears, and she cries silently through at least a third of the tape, but it feels cathartic, and necessary, the same way it felt opening up to her grandmother that afternoon.

But when the music eventually cuts off, plunging her back into the apartment's oppressive silence, all it's done is bring her an hour and a half closer to Diane's funeral. Piper shoves in another tape with Alex's name on it, her fingers pressing Play with urgent, hurried motion, banishing the silence again. She stretches out on the carpet, drifting in and out of shallow sleep.

* * *

><p>Piper wakes up to silence and sunlight filtering through the blinds, and anxiety immediately starts gnawing her stomach into tiny pieces.<p>

She doesn't want to go.

It's as simple and childish as that.

She can hear Alex in the bathroom, and Piper's nerves redouble. When she'd pulled away last night, Alex had come back to herself just long enough to give Piper this furious, disgusted look she can't get out of her head. Piper's sure she's severely pissed Alex off on the worst possible day for it.

But after a few minutes, Alex walks out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, her hair inky black and dripping water onto the floor. Piper looks up at her, expecting a cold front of anger, but there's nothing in Alex's face but deep rooted dread. Her eyes find Piper's and hold on, like she needs it.

"Hey."

Alex's voice sounds muffled, and Piper realizes the headphones are still clamped on her ears. She knocks them off, embarrassed. "Hey."

"Get any sleep?" That's it; no reference to the mess of clothes on one side of the room, or the tapes littering the floor on the other. There's no trace of last night in Alex's voice.

"Just a little."

"Yeah. Me, too." Alex stands there for a moment, an unmoored expression on her face. Finally she turns away, voice flattening. "You should get ready. We have to leave soon."

* * *

><p>Piper puts on a black dress and waterproof mascara and curls her hair. When she walks back into the living room, Alex is at the computer again, scribbling on a notepad.<p>

"Alex?"

Alex squints through the fog around her and registers Piper's presence. "I'm almost done."

"Okay."

Pure fear slices unexpectedly through Piper's chest, and she doesn't know why but she feels afraid of _Alex_; of what she might do, of what her face is going to look like, of her eulogy.

Piper hovers across the room until Alex finally rips a few pages from the notepad and stands up, pulling her mom's leather jacket over her black dress and zipping the folded papers into the pocket.

Her jaw is tight, but Alex's eyes hold a dozen storms. "Ready?"

Piper nods mutely, and Alex walks swiftly toward the front door. She grabs onto Alex's hand when she passes, lacing their fingers together. It feels like reaching across a chasm, grabbing for someone about to fall.

* * *

><p>"Will you go in first?"<p>

Those are the first words Alex has spoken since they got to the funeral home. The funeral director left them alone almost ten minutes ago, in a room full of flower arrangements and tissues boxes. There's a doorway without a door leading to a tiny private viewing room. Diane's body is in there, in her monstrously expensive coffin, and Piper keeps staring at the wall and trying not to think about what's on the other side of the pastel floral wallpaper.

Alex had sat right down on one of the tiny stiff sofas, making no move to enter the viewing room, so Piper had joined her without comment, relief pulsing for every second they aren't going in there.

But now Alex is asking her to go. Alone.

"What?"

"I...I need...I don't know..." Alex shakes her head, her lips twisting, like the words are fighting to remain unsaid. Piper squeezes her fingers, gentle and patient. Alex exhales a gust of wind, nails digging half moons into Piper's palms, until she finally clenches out, "I need you to go first. Tell me if she looks okay. Please just do that for me."

When Piper doesn't answer, Alex turns, pinning her with a desperate, open look, and there's nothing for Piper to do but nod. She kisses the back of Alex's hand before gently disengaging their grip.

Her leg muscles feel liquid beneath as she walks to the doorway, and Piper has to stop and lean against the frame, swallowing childlike outbursts: why isn't _she_ allowed to be scared?

She knows the answer, of course: because it's _Alex's_ mom. But the thing is, Piper wasn't even planning on looking. She'd planned on holding Alex's hand, on looking at _her_, never the casket, never the body.

When Alex had given the funeral director the photo of Diane, Piper had started overthinking, and now it's happening again: she can't forget about some undertaker bent over a table in the basement, trying to recreate Diane's usual makeup, brushing her hair. Even just imagining it feels too vivid, and as soon as Piper eases into the room, gets the slightest peripheral glimpse of a gleaming white casket and bottle auburn hair, the bile rises in the back of her throat, and she lowers her head so she can't see anything but carpet.

She could lie. She could keep her head down and walk out and say everything she's supposed to say: that Diane looks just like herself, and that she looks peaceful, except that of course both things can't be true. Diane wasn't peaceful, she was a force of nature, a hurricane doused in sunlight, and Piper _does not want _to see her like this, because she will never, ever forget it.

But she can practically feel Alex's need radiating from the next room, so thick in the air it's hard to breathe in it. So Piper clamps her hand to her mouth with as much force as she can, shuffles forward a few feet, and looks.

She catches the yelp behind her teeth, but her whole body lurches with its force.

Once she looks, she can't look away, and everything wrong is screaming at her. The curls are too tame, eye shadow too light, she's not wearing her rings or bracelets, but most of all she is so, _so _still.

"Piper?" Alex's voice curls up at the end, rising toward panic.

Piper closes her eyes, breathing sharply through her nose as she counts to five and then ten and then twenty before she can walk out of the room.

Alex shoots to her feet when Piper reappears. "_So_?" Her voice falters. "Does she look okay?"

Piper can't bring herself to lie.

"It's awful, Alex." Her voice cracks, and Alex looks stricken, but Piper can't keep words from tumbling out, shaking and shrill, "Like one of those wax museums, I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't say that...I _hate_ open caskets, my parents made me see my grandfather's when I was little and I never forgot it and I never looked at one again, until this, I just don't like remembering anyone that way, I wish I hadn't seen _her_..." She stops herself, horrified at the out of control rambling. "I...I'm sorry...Alex..." She touches her arm, but Alex shrugs her off. Helpless, Piper tries, "You don't have to go in there - "

"_Yes_, I do," she bites out angrily. "_Fuck_, Piper...when was the last time we saw her?"

"I - Christmas? When she took us to the airport..."

"Exactly. That was six fucking months ago!" Alex's eyes are huge, almost demented with fury, every word out of her mouth is a stone hurled at the whole goddamn world. "I didn't _know__, _Piper! I didn't know to pay...to pay attention." She sucks in a stuttered breath. "So, _yes_, I actually fucking do have to go in there, because I can't _never_ _see my mom again_."

"Okay...okay..." Alex is shaking so hard Piper can see it, and her hands shoot out to grasp Alex's arms out of instinctive need to hold her still. "It's okay...you're right, you should do it, I'll go in with you."

"You said you hated it."

"I do." She slips her hand into Alex's. "But I'll go with you. If you want me to."

Her eyes filling up, Alex nods.

With her stomach folding in on itself, Piper leads her back into the viewing room, eyes fixed on a spot on the wall, very deliberately _not_ looking.

Then Alex makes a noise, this deep, guttural moan that sounds like someone is forcibly ripping it from her chest. Piper whispers her name without meaning to, all broken jagged syllables, then wraps her arm around Alex, who practically falls into her side.

Alex is crying, in that silent, hard won way she does, like she's fighting a battle the tears are winning. Her lips are moving, forming and reforming the word _mom_, but she doesn't make a sound. When she reaches out, shaking fingers stroking Diane's hair, Piper twists away, holding onto Alex's arm and laying her cheek on Alex's shoulder, giving her privacy without going away.

Without warning Alex buckles, all her weight sagging onto Piper, who stumbles slightly before awkwardly easing them both onto the floor.

It seems like a stretch of several years tick by as Alex shakes in Piper's arms, Piper stroking her hair and trying not to think about the coffin looming above them.

* * *

><p>"Now." Alex's voice sounds scraped thin, and Piper nearly jumps out of her skin at the first sound in fifteen minutes. She unfolds herself from Piper's arms, looking slightly dazed. "We have to go <em>now<em>. I mean it, otherwise I won't leave."

Alex is already getting to her feet, and Piper hurries to follow, feeling whiplashed from the sudden urgency after what seemed like endless, agonizing stillness. Alex looks over her shoulder at the casket, her face twisting into fresh devastation, but she doesn't stop walking until they're out of the viewing room.

She's muttering a litany of curses under her breath, it makes her seem unhinged, and she shrugs away from the touch when Piper's hand lands between her shoulder blades.

"Alex?"

"No more."

"What?"

"I can't do anything else, how the fuck am I supposed to..."

"Alex."

"The funeral right now, that's fucking insane - "

"Slow down..."

"Fuck this, I can't - "

"Alex. Look at me." Piper seizes the front of Diane's jacket and pulls Alex toward her, stopping her frenzied movement. "Two hours. Two hours and you'll be done. We will go home and hit walls and scream and break shit." When Alex shows no signs of moving away again, Piper slowly lets go of her jacket. Tentatively, she reaches up to cradle Alex's face. "Two hours, and no one's gonna ask anything else from you. Two hours and it's over."

Alex starts nodding and doesn't stop. Then, in a small voice, she says, "But my mom will be in the ground."

* * *

><p>They stand outside the funeral home's chapel room to accept condolences as people arrive for the service. Piper's palming circles in Alex's back, and she leans close to assure her, "This part's pretty mind numbing, but it's a break from the harder stuff."<p>

"Thanks, Pipes, I don't need a walk through," Alex mutters, more tired than annoyed.

The door to the funeral home opens and a man and woman walk in, trailed by two teenage boys focused on handheld video games. Piper's never seen them before, and she's about to shoot Alex a questioning look, when the woman looks up, and Piper's breath catches in the back of her throat.

She looks like Diane, sharpened. Diane with less makeup and less light.

"Honey." The woman, obviously Diane's infamous older sister, gives Alex a cool peck on the cheek and hugs her with only shoulder blades. "I've just been dreading this. Boys..." She snaps her fingers at her sons. "Say hi to your cousin."

They mumble incoherent greetings, while Alex's uncle formally shakes her hand. "Good to see you again, Alex. Very sorry about your mom...she was just great."

Piper can practically see Alex fighting back an eyeroll, so she extends her hand to Alex's aunt. "I'm Piper."

"Oh." Her face pinches the slightest bit; she's reminding Piper less of Diane every second. "Right, you're The Friend."

Piper and Alex exchange a flash of a glance, identical suppressed smirks flaring in their eyes. It's the best moment they've had all day.

"Clara Downy," Alex's aunt continues stiffly, shaking Piper's hand. "Di's big sister."

Piper's heard plenty about Clara from Diane, and she can't bring herself to say the _sorry for your loss_ line. She feels more claim to the loss than Clara has.

She shakes Clara's husbands hand, too, but ignores the teenage boys, who are nudging each other and glancing back and forth between Piper and Alex.

"Boys, c'mon..." Clara shepherds her family into forming a line next to Alex and Piper. This time Alex does roll her eyes.

There's still some time before the attendees will start arriving, and Clara fills the silence chattering on about how _awful _it was, getting that phone call, heroically driving to the hospital to claim the body. Alex stares straight ahead, a muscle jumping in her jaw, eyes blazing, but she doesn't cut Clara off. Piper keeps a hand on Alex's back, appeasing, trying to stroke away the tension.

Clara only stops talking when her sons erupt into exaggerated groans, both of them staring at a single tiny screen.

"_Dude_."

"Shit!"

"_Hey_," Clara snaps. "Both of you, put that away. For God's sake, we're at your _aunt's funeral_."

"Oh, who cares?" Alex says flippantly, turning to her aunt with a benign smile. "It's not like they knew her. If we were at _your_ funeral, I wouldn't be that upset."

Piper's eyes widen, horror shooting through her even as she quells the inappropriate desire to laugh.

Clara, however, isn't laughing. She stares open mouthed at Alex for a moment, eyes bulging and offended. Then, terrifyingly, her lips twist into a smile that doesn't hit any other part of her face. "Well, that's a shame. I would think you might have a little more gratitude when that time comes...being that I'm the only reason your _mother_ didn't have to raise you in the backseat of a car. Or, more likely, end up abandoning you outside a police station -"

Alex's arm twitches and jerks back, palm splayed, but Piper grabs her elbow, gently but firmly keeping her still.

"Fuck you," Alex growls. "You do _one _decent thing...the bare minimum...the fucking..." She's too angry to make herself understood, and Piper gently squeezes her arm.

"Alex," she murmurs. "It's okay. C'mere..." She tugs at Alex, forcing her to turn away from her aunt and face Piper.

The rage leeches from Alex's eyes, and she gets that old familiar look on her face, half defensive and half desperate, _needing_ Piper to understand. "She...my mom wouldn't have - "

"I know," she soothes quickly. "Alex, you know I know." Over Alex's shoulder, Piper meets Clara's gaze. Heat fills her head, and she narrows her eyes into a hateful glare before refocusing on Alex. "Forget about it."

Then, from behind them, someone says Alex's name, long and drawn out, voice bending with sympathy.

They turn around just as Beth McGinnis pulls Alex into a crushing hug, complete with swaying. "Lex. Baby. Jesus Christ. What a shit, huh? Goddamn _aneurysm_." Eventually, Beth lets her go and turns to Piper, hugging her, too. "Piper, sweetie, it's been forever..." When she gets close to Piper's ear, she whispers, "Thank God you're here with her."

Beth's been Diane's best friend since before Piper knew the Vauses. She's nearly ten years older than Diane, with a booming voice and a fountain of black curls, now slightly greying at the roots, and she'd gotten Diane multiple jobs wherever she was working. Diane getting her hired at Friendly's, back when Piper and Alex were in sixth grade, was the first time she'd been able to return the favor.

Now, Beth leaves a hand on each of their arms, blatantly ignoring Clara's family. She gives Alex a deep, searching look. "I've been calling you, Lex."

Piper feels Alex stiffen beside her. "I know, sorry."

When Alex doesn't offer an explanation, Beth prompts softly, "I thought you might have questions..." She darts a snide glance in Clara's direction. "Or just want to hear what happened from someone besides _her_."

"That's okay. Thanks." Alex says shortly.

Beth makes a sympathetic face, and touches Alex lightly on the cheek. "I'm so, so sorry, honey." Alex's face tightens the slightest bit, but she only nods in response. Beth hugs Alex again. "All the girls are coming. We'll talk after, alright?" Then, she pats Piper on the arm and gives her a small smile, still addressing Alex. "And let this one look after you, yeah?"

She goes into the chapel without acknowledging Clara. Alex watches her go, and when she turns back, Piper's stomach sinks; Alex is shutting down again, going somewhere Piper can't find her.

More people start to arrive then; some distant family Alex barely seems to know, old neighbors or friends who haven't seen Diane in decades, but most of all a deluge of women with hunched shoulders and chapped hands from years of cashier and restaurant work: one time coworkers of Diane's, members of her poker circle and margarita nights, many of whom Alex has never even met, though they hug her like they've known her for years, and then turn to Piper and treat her the same way, not even having to ask who she is.

At some point, amid their condolences to Alex and rapturous praise for Diane, they all smile or wink and say some version of the same thing.

"Di told us so much about you two..."

"...and your relationship..."

"...how long you've been together..."

"...we're all jealous."

Piper forces a smile every time, but Alex's face gets progressively stonier, and by the fourth or fifth time, she shrugs Piper's hand off her back and stops looking over at her.

When the flow into the chapel slows, Piper's stomach is knotting up; the funeral starts soon, and she's more afraid of Alex's eulogy than she wants to be.

She turns to Alex to suggest they go inside, when Alex's eyes widen in surprise, looking at someone coming in over Piper's shoulder.

"What?" Piper turns around to see her parents and Cal approaching.

"Didn't know they were coming," Alex mutters just before the Chapmans glide over.

"Alex..." Piper's mom comes at Alex with her arms out, and Alex looks borderline alarmed in the second before Carol hugs her. Piper stares; she's pretty sure her mother's never hugged Alex before.

She feels a rush of something almost like shame, thinking of all the times Diane hugged her.

"Thanks for coming, Mrs. Chapman," Alex is saying robotically; that's another thing Piper's mom never did - tell Alex to use her first name.

"We're so sorry, dear."

"Thank you."

It plays out like the most boring, standard script imaginable, and then Alex repeats the exchange with Piper's father. Cal rolls his eyes apologetically at her, and Alex gives him a fraction of a smile.

Piper's parents don't seem to know how to treat her; they haven't seen her around Alex since she told them the truth, _years_ ago. Carol gives her a dry kiss on the cheek, while her dad hugs her and whispers they they've been hoping to see her more while she's in town.

They introduce themselves to Clara's family, giving the standard apologies, and Alex turns away from them, laughing softly and humorlessly to herself, like she can't believe this combination of people. Piper raises her voice and says firmly, "Mom, Dad? It's starting soon, you should get seats."

Before they answer, Alex turns to look at Clara. "You should find a seat, too. Not with us. _Not_ the family pew."

The air gets sucked out of the room at that; Piper can't help but glance at her parents, checking their reaction. They exchange a glance, eyebrows high, judgment radiating.

Clara launches into a protest - "she was my _sister_" - but she barely gets going before Alex grabs Piper by the hand and pulls her into the chapel room, down the aisle to the front, the two of them sliding into the family pew alone.

* * *

><p>Within five minutes of the funeral, Piper can understand Alex's impulse to agree to a eulogy; the funeral director gives what is obviously a routine, painfully generic speech about death and people living on through family. He drops in references to Alex, Diane's love for music, her lifelong work ethic and other details from his brief conversation with Alex and Piper, but it's a Mad Libs, fill-in-the-blanks type of effort.<p>

It's like there could be anyone in that coffin, and it's the coffin that Piper can't stop staring at, tuning out the undertaker and instead thinking about that casket going into the ground, how the grave is already dug, a few miles from here, that Diane's body will be there forever, fading into bones.

She really, really hopes Alex isn't thinking any of that.

Alex isn't staring at the coffin, at least; but she also doesn't seem to be hearing a word of the service. She's tightly wound and stone still, her face wiped clean, the same blank expression she'd had last night.

Piper takes her hand and squeezes, but Alex doesn't look over.

Too soon, the undertaker gives a respectful nod, and says, "Now Diane's daughter Alex would like to say a few words."

Piper's genuinely worried she's going to have to physically lead Alex the full distance to the pulpit, but after an uncomfortable pause she stands up, pulling her hand from Piper's and rummaging in her jacket pocket for her notes.

The seconds start to crawl by, stretching out Alex's walk to the front. Piper feels sick already, just wishing this part would be over.

She isn't sure what it is that's scaring her so much about this eulogy until Alex gets to the front. It's the sight of her all alone up there, in front of everyone; she feels impossibly far away, and Piper's chest aches, hard. She can't remember ever feeling this desperate to protect Alex.

It's taking forever, she hasn't still hasn't said anything, the wait is torture. Piper twists around in her pew, scanning the crowd, her chest swelling with the absurd desire to yell at them all to get out, leave her alone.

Then Alex starts, "My mom was..."

Her voice breaks in half. It's that quick. Alex's eyes widen; she takes off her glasses and puts them back on again, then looks up, eyes roving the crowd. Piper's probably the only one who sees the flash of unadulterated panic before Alex's face hardens and she lowers her gaze again.

Piper can _feel_ it, how much Alex hates this, how much it feels like an intrusion. If Alex tries to talk about her mom, she's going to cry, and she hates crying in front of people, especially people like her aunt or Piper's parents. Piper is in agony, watching this, watching Alex's horrified attempt to hold herself together, needing to do this and absolutely not wanting to.

Her heart surges toward Alex, and she's on her feet and halfway there before Piper even registers what she's doing.

She approaches Alex at the podium; a murmur of reaction sweeps through the room, but Piper ignores it. Her hands are shaking violently, and Piper gently covers them with her own; only then does she look up and meet Piper's eyes.

Alex looks worse than Piper's ever ever seen her, her whole face is wreckage, and Piper's brain nearly short circuits with the number of contradictory impulses crossing wires: to cry, to hug Alex, to go all out to make her smile.

Piper glances down at the pieces of paper on the pulpit, Alex's notes for the eulogy: they're mostly black scribbles of crossed out sentences and false starts. There are only a few surviving words and phrases, and most of them don't make sense without context. Piper recognizes a few song titles in there, some from the tape cassette from last night, and the crying impulse nearly wins out.

Instead she starts talking.

"I met Diane when I was nine years old...that's when Alex and I started being friends, in fourth grade. We became best friends pretty fast, so I spent a lot of time at their apartment, sleeping over. Diane was always making fun of us, saying we were scary close...that Alex would be reaching for the phone to call me, and it would ring and be me calling her. And we'd...we'd have these conversations that were all half-sentences, not even realizing we didn't have to finish our thoughts before the other one would answer." She looks beside her; Alex's eyes are digging into hers, like if she stares at Piper intensely enough, she'll forget everyone else is here.

Piper gives her fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze before she continues, "Diane teased us about it constantly...and I remember at one point, she started this joke about how we acted like twins - we were only like eleven, so this was a couple years before we knew to be _really_ glad we weren't related." Piper hadn't meant to say that; soft laughter rolls through the room. _G__od_. She's sure her parents loved that one.

"Uh. Anyway. She said we had a psychic connection like some twins do. And I remember one thing she started doing...the three of us would be sitting around watching a movie, or eating at Friendly's...and out of nowhere, Diane would reach over, to either one of us, and do that thing where you squeeze a few inches above the knee, in that _really_ ticklish spot. And whichever one of us she did it to would yelp and jump like we'd been electrocuted, and Diane would just smile, super innocent, and say she just wanted to see if the other one would feel it, too."

Another wave of soft, restrained laughter sweeps through the chapel, but Piper knows it's a strange story to start with, as much about her and Alex as it is about Diane, but there's a reason it's the first thing that came to mind: here they are, over ten years later, and she finally thinks Diane might have been right.

Piper can't look at the hurt on Alex's face without it walloping her. She feels like Alex's grief is right there in her chest, tangled inextricably with her own. Alex cries, and Piper feels the tears rising up her throat.

Piper swallows hard, and forces a smile. "Diane kept that up to months, even though it was only funny to her. It always took her forever to get tired of a joke." More laughter, fond and knowing; Piper thinks there's nothing so _relieved_ as laughter at a funeral, as though everyone is grateful for the chance to prove that happiness and humor still exists.

"Like, there was this story she told me probably a dozen times about a customer at Wal Mart, and no matter how many times she'd told it, it took her forever to get through it because she'd crack herself up..." Piper keeps going, telling the story, and when she finishes that one she starts another, and then another.

If she'd written this speech down, any professor she'd ever had would tear it apart, point out that it's just anecdote after anecdote, no transitions or overarching theme, no real direction.

But early on she feels Alex move behind her and lean her forehead against the back of her head; it's like she's hiding behind Piper, and the stories of her mom.

So Piper doesn't stop; she builds a shelter out of memories, until she feels Alex's lips brush the back of her neck, in the center of her tattoo. Alex straightens up, reaching for Piper's hand again, and gives her a tiny nod, mouthing, "Thank you."

Piper stops talking, without any regard to a wrap up or conclusion, and walks beside Alex to the family pew.

* * *

><p>Alex doesn't let go of her hand for the rest of the service, or as they move through the funeral home when it's over, continually stopped by the other mourners, or even when they walk outside and head for the funeral home's limo to ride the cemetery.<p>

They're almost to the vehicle, parked at the curb, when someone calls out, "Piper..."

She and Alex both turn; Piper's mom is standing there, looking uncomfortable. When she doesn't say anything, Piper shrugs apologetically at Alex. "Give me a second?"

Alex nods, reluctantly letting go and heading to the car by herself.

Piper returns her attention to her mom. "Are you guys coming to the cemetery?"

"Oh, no, we weren't planning on it...unless you want us to?"

"No, that's fine. It's a smaller thing."

"We assumed so."

Silence stretches between them, and Piper casts an anxious glance back at the limo; Alex left the back door open for her. "Mom, I really appreciate you guys coming, but I have to - "

"I didn't..." Carol stops, seeming to choose her words carefully. "I didn't know any of that. How much time you spent with Diane...how well you knew her."

Piper sighs tiredly. "Alex and I practically alternated between each others houses, every weekend for, what? Eight years?"

"Yes, but _I_ wouldn't have known that you and Alex were finishing each other's sentences when you were eleven. And...I doubt Alex has any affectionate stories about _me_."

Piper lifts her eyebrows, giving her a significant look. "I _know_." Too many conversations pile up between them, all the times Piper had defended the decision to keep her relationship from her parents, reminding them how they'd always treated Alex, even as a kid, like she was beneath them, not worth getting to know. Like Piper deserved better, even when they were just friends.

Carol sighs, then tilts her head at her daughter, eyes softening into a strange combination of sympathy and hurt that's utterly unfamiliar. "You really loved Diane Vause, didn't you?"

"Yeah." Piper can't bring herself to sound sorry about that.

"I honestly had no idea."

"I _know_."

There's hurt on her mom's face, but Piper can't reach any guilt. She can't believe it's taken this long of her mother to figure out how little they know each other, and not two years of short perfunctory visits, or the three years of keeping her relationship a complete secret.

The truth is, there were times when Alex and Diane would swap a look across a room, something so easy and simply, and Piper would ache with longing. She loved Diane, and she had always loved feeling like a part of their family, but she never quite stopped being jealous.

"Mom, I have to go with Alex."

"Of course." She gets two steps before her mother stops her, "Piper? Maybe the two of you could come over for dinner some night next week. Before you girls leave town again."

Piper's smile, dormant for what feels like weeks, bursts to life, disbelief and happiness blooming. "Really?"

Carol gives her a small, trying smile. "Really. Please."

As quickly as it ignited, the traitorous, sudden happiness extinguishes, as Piper remembers that Alex might still be leaving without her. That their breakup may or may not stick, and that this thing she'd never even let herself hope for might be completely irrelevant.

This time her smile is entirely forced, and much more familiar. "Thanks, Mom. I'll call you, okay?"

* * *

><p>Piper can't go to a cemetery without feeling like a character in something fictional. It feels cinematic, not quite real, like her brain wants to limit death to stories.<p>

In funeral scenes in novels, writers always mention the weather, finding it heavily significant no matter what it is. If it's raining, it's either eerily appropriate, or an insult added to injury. If the sun is out, it's emphasized as either ironic or glaringly inappropriate.

Today, the sun is out, but it's pouring more heat than light, leaving the air thick and sweltering. It's the worst kind of summer day, too hot to be wearing all black, and definitely too hot for the leather jacket Alex has on, but Piper doesn't dare say anything.

There's a smaller crowd at the cemetery, just Clara's family and Diane's group of friends. When they get there, Beth touches Piper on the arm and pulls her aside, out of Alex's earshot; Piper goes because it's easier than looking at the open grave, or the casket being carried over to it.

"You were great," she tells Piper warmly. "I thought my goddamn heart was going to beak, watching her stand up there, not saying a word, but you...you saved her. And it was a perfect speech, Di would have loved it."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, for sure. Trust me, kiddo."

Throat tightening, Piper gives her a clumsy smile, then turns around to find Alex.

Immediately, her insides freeze.

Alex is talking to Fahri.

He spots her over Alex's shoulder and lifts his hand in a wave. Alex turns and meets Piper's eyes, her expression unreadable, before they both return to their conversation.

When the shock gradually clears, Piper's first thought is that it's not fair; this place isn't his, he shouldn't be allowed here, it's rewriting the rules. Their hometown has always been about who they were before Alex joined the cartel, but now Fahri's brought it here, into _Piper's_ territory.

And deep down, Piper's not sure she can compete.

Alex is glancing around again; she sees Beth watching her, and quickly says something to Fahri before walking over to a tight knot of Diane's friends.

Piper starts to follow her, but Fahri's already approaching.

"Piper," he nods a greeting, speaking in that calm, crisp way he has. "You taking good care of our girl?"

He's said things like that before, always in good humor, but today Piper bristles at the _our_.

She feels uncomfortable in Fahri's presence, but that's maybe overdramatic, even disingenuous, forcing the feeling for her own validation.

The truth is, she's taken shots in bars with Fahri, has had lively conversations with him, has even stayed out with him and a few others after Alex turned in for the night.

But after she carried that suitcase into Brussels, something changed. Time and exposure had made everything about the cartel seem normal...until Piper had been standing in an airport alone, nauseous and dizzy with terror, with nothing to do but wait - and consider the very real consequences.

She folds her arms over her chest, not holding eye contact with Fahri. "What are you doing here?"

He chuckles. "Jesus, Chapman. You're tense in the States." His smile fades into a serious expression. "I'm here to pay my respects. Of course."

"Right." Piper's eyes jump to Alex, still talking to Beth, but obviously distracted staring at the grave, with the coffin now poised above it. Something tugs in Piper's chest, pulling her toward Alex. She slides her gaze back to Fahri, intending to tersely excuse herself, but instead she blurts out, "Did you tell her to hurry back?"

Fahri raises his eyebrows, smirking the slightest bit at the bitter tone. "I only asked _when_ the two of you would be rejoining us. Fair question, I think."

Piper's stomach swoops again, but she just shakes her head angrily. "Her _mom_ died."

"And she's here mourning her," he says smoothly. "But she also has work to do." When Piper's glare doesn't abate, Fahri sighs, heavy with condescension. "Okay, Pipe, I guess you think she'd get unlimited bereavement time if she was working as a teacher or, or a fucking cocktail waitress, right?"

Piper turns away from him, striding over to Alex, ignoring the worry that's suddenly drop kicking her stomach.

* * *

><p>The graveside service is short and generic, but it ends up being surprisingly easy for Piper to forget about Fahri lurking in the background of the small crowd.<p>

Because Alex hasn't looked away from the coffin and the grave since Piper walked away from Fahri, and it's making Piper scared of her again. There's something genuinely wild in her eyes, like she might be about to really and truly lose it, whatever that entails.

Piper's standing slightly behind Alex, one arm around her waist, the other holding her hand, chin hooked over her shoulder; she can't shake the feeling that she needs to be ready to hold Alex together in case she falls completely apart.

She's trying not to look at the coffin, or at Alex's face, so Piper ends up gazing around the cemetery, all the rolling hills dotted with white and grey slabs. It's overwhelming to think that every headstone represents someone gone forever, someone grieved and cried for.

But Piper can't quite believe that anyone ever left this kind of hole. That anyone else ever hurt the way Alex is.

She thinks about the sound Alex made that morning, when she first saw Diane lying in the casket. Piper's sure she's going to have that sound trapped in her ears for the rest of her life, and she's suddenly terrified to hear whatever sound Alex makes when that casket goes underground.

The undertaker finishes a speech that's almost a prayer, and whatever machine the coffin is sitting makes a soft whirring sound before it starts lowering.

She feels Alex jerk and then shudder, and Piper tightens her grip on her, a hundred emotions exploding like fireworks in her chest.

For some reason, all of a sudden, rage is burning brightest.

_Fuck you_, she thinks, eyes on the coffin, her thoughts unraveling at dizzying speed. _How dare you do this to her? How dare you leave her, how could you, you were supposed to take care of her, you said it was your job, that it wasn't mine, how fucking dare you, Diane? _

The casket finally slips out of sight, into the grave, and the sound Piper was expecting cracks the air - a crooked, siren of a wail, long and low and primal, made of pure pain - but the noise doesn't come out of Alex.


	6. Chapter Five

Piper can't stop crying, and it's making it hard for her to apologize.

"Hey...hey, stop, look at me..." Alex's fingers circle Piper's wrists, pulling her hands away from her face. "Why do you keep saying you're sorry?"

Piper shakes her head, throat working furiously to get the words out. "I shouldn't...be like this...sorry..."

"Yeah, God, how dare you _cry_ at a _funeral_," Alex says softly, all fond, gentle sarcasm. "So fucking inappropriate."

There's something so jarringly familiar about Alex's voice that Piper finally looks up at her. A fresh sob rounds in her throat when they make eye contact. She barely stops herself from blurting out, stupidly: _There you are_.

They're standing in front of the open grave, but the rest of the crowd seems to have moved away, heading to their cars. Piper's not sure when that happened, if Alex glared them away or if the service had come to a natural end.

"Sorry," she murmurs one more time.

"Shut _up_." Alex takes a single step across the gap between them and hugs her, hard.

Piper lets her hand trail slowly up the curve of Alex's spine; it makes her seem fragile. Alex holds on for a long time, until all at once her body shudders with a sound, a low, stuck moan that sounds like it's still muffled inside her throat.

"Alex?"

Alex reels away from Piper, her eyes snapping back to the open grave, teeth gritted. "I'm gonna be sick."

Piper tenses, on instant alert, but nothing happens. Alex just stares at the casket, breathing hard, her eyes glassy.

"Al...?"

"This is going to sound idiotic," Alex says tightly. "But I don't think we should leave her."

Piper feels her tears start up again; she wraps an arm around Alex, too tight throated to do anything but nod. Out of the corner of her vision, she sees a few people hovering by the line of cars at the edge of the cemetery; Fahri's among them.

She kisses the side of Alex's head and whispers, "We'll stay as long as you want."

* * *

><p>"Hey, babes." Beth's voice startles both of them; they're practically in a daze, still standing together in front of the brand new headstone after nearly half an hour. Beth's voice is probably softer than she's ever managed to be in her life, and she sounds overly gentle and cautious, like they might be unstable.<p>

Piper gives Alex a reassuring squeeze on the arm and a quick, silent look to let her know she can handle this. "Hey," she gives Beth a funeral smile, close lipped and solemn. "You don't have to stay, we're good."

Beth throws back the kind of smile that would be appropriate for visiting someone in a psych ward, all deep concern and determined patience. "You two shouldn't stay either, c'mon. Some of the girls have already headed over to Don Ramon, we're going to order Sunrise Margaritas, Di's favorite, make some toasts, swap stories..."

She's giving them a warm, inviting smile, but Piper has to fight not to wince; there's something unappealing about this, the _celebrate her life_ approach, where death just seems to be an excuse for a sloppy party, the attendees constantly reassuring themselves that it's what their dead friend would have wanted. But before Piper can construct a polite refusal, Alex says, "Yeah, okay."

Piper throws her a startled look. "Yeah?"

Alex stands up a little straighter, looking oddly determined. "Yeah, let's do that. That sounds perfect."

Relief splashes across Beth's expression, and she wraps a proud arm around Alex. "Good, good! I think this is just what you girls need. Well, all of us do."

"Our car's at the funeral home," Piper reminds Alex.

"Oh, I'll give you a ride, neither of you are gonna be able to drive home tonight, anyway."

Piper glances at her watch: 1:46. _Tonight_ feels very far away.

"We've actually got to settle some bills with the funeral guy," Alex says. "But we'll meet you there?"

"Alright, hon. We'll wait for ya."

Beth walks away off and Piper shoots Alex a questioning look; as far as she knows, the payment was all taken care of. Alex doesn't clarify anything, though, until Beth is in her car and drives away. She looks at Piper, murmuring softly, "I'll meet you in the limo?"

Piper nods and kisses her cheek, figuring she wants a moment alone at the grave.

She's halfway to the limo when she notices Fahri, leaning on a rental car. Piper glances back, relieved that Alex is still standing on her own.

But five minutes later, as Piper watches through the window, Alex turns from the grave, lifting her chin and stiffening her shoulders, and walks over to Fahri.

Dread pools sickeningly in Piper's stomach, and she turns away from the window, falling back against the seat, defeated. She wishes he would just go the fuck away.

_She_ is the one who's barely left Alex's side since she found out. _She_ is the one Diane's friends know by name, the one they tell to take care of Alex. _She_ is the one who just saved Alex's eulogy.

She hates herself for thinking like this, like any of those things were done to score points.

When Alex joins her a few minutes later, all she says is, "We'll just go get the car."

All Piper says back is, "Okay." Then, "You know, we don't have to go with Beth if you don't want to - "

"I do want to. I can't be in the apartment, right now."

"Okay."

They ride in silence for awhile, until suddenly Alex breaks it, "Pipes?" Piper looks at her, and Alex's whole face softens. "Thanks. For coming up there, at the funeral. I...was about to lose it, and you were really great." Her voice snags. "I keep thinking that I can't wait to tell Mom about it."

Piper slides over a seat and leans into Alex's side, feeling like a horrible selfish person.

* * *

><p>They find Beth and Diane's other friends crowded around the biggest table at a divey little Mexican restaurant full of colorful Christmas lights and out-of-place July fourth decorations.<p>

Beth's saved them two seats and insists on ordering them margaritas, but Alex disappears to the bar and comes back with a tray of four tequila shots. Piper clues into why she wanted to come.

Alex has tossed back two shots, barely pausing between them, before Piper invites herself to join for a round, if only to lower Alex's number by one.

Even so, she's up and at the bar again before the waitress brings their first margaritas.

It's better than Piper expected, listening to Diane's friends talk about her with such obvious affection, telling their stories, talking over each other in their eagerness to say the best part, the most _Diane _moment; it's like a collaborative version of Piper's eulogy, and Piper finds herself smiling, soaking up the warmth and love pulsing at the table.

"Piper, speak up!" One of the women says at one point. "You had the best stories today, give us more."

"Um..." Piper thinks, turning instinctively to Alex, only to see her retreating from the table, en route to the bar. Again. "In a few minutes...excuse me..."

She gets to her feet and goes after Alex. The bar is completely empty, and Alex is leaning across it, waiting for the bartender to reappear. Piper has to scratch her fingers lightly against Alex's back to get her attention.

"Hey!" Alex grins, all glazed eyes and flushed cheeks.

"Hey," Piper forces herself to smile back, keeping her tone light, "You good?"

"Yeah, but I'll be better as soon as I get a fucking - oh, good, hey!" Alex turns away as the bartender returns from the kitchen, leaning across the bar. "Can I get two more shots? Unless..." She glances back at Piper. "Do you want something? Yeah, you do. _Four _shots, please."

"Alex..." Piper bites her lip worriedly, knowing even the most gentle suggestion that Alex slow down will only provoke scorn and direct defiance. She tells herself that at least it isn't heroin, then instantly feels sick for even thinking that.

"C'mere..." Alex tugs Piper's hand close, smirking as she rubs a lime across the inside of her wrist, then sprinkles salt across it. When the bartender puts the shots down, Alex bends her head to lick Piper's wrist, then immediately tosses the shot back, swaying a little when she straightens up. Piper grabs her arm to keep her steady, but Alex pulls away with a determined smile, pushing the lime, salt, and a shot at Piper. "Your go, babe."

Piper repeats the ritual and takes the shot, mostly because it distracts her from how much Alex's unthinking use of the endearment makes her want to cry.

Alex does the two remaining shots without offering Piper one. She steps away from the bar and stumbles, and when Piper grabs on to keep her from falling, Alex gracelessly crashes their lips together.

Piper nearly falls into the bar, and she grabs the front of the leather jacket to steady herself. Alex's mouth is enthusiastic but clumsy, and it makes Piper realize this is a _serious_ _business_ drunk.

She gently disentangles her lips from Alex's, forcing a smile. "You want to go home?"

"We don't need to go home, Pipes," Alex says distractedly, her hands groping brazenly at Piper's chest. "We can just sneak off to the bathroom."

Piper's had a few shots and two margaritas, but she feels stone cold sober beside Alex, and she's not used to that.

Without thinking much about it, just because Alex is drunk and, for the moment at least, some fake version of happy with her, Piper asks, apropos of nothing, "Is Fahri staying in town?"

Alex doesn't seem to register the lack of subject transition. "He's catching a flight to New York. Seeing clients." She laughs once, harshly. "Who knows, maybe he's seeing my fucking father."

Piper's insides tense up; Alex has only mentioned her dad once since meeting him, and that was five years ago.

The smile on Alex's face twists, and all her alcohol fueled glee disappears. "He's been shooting smack for over twenty fucking years and _that _asshole is the one who's still alive. It's not - " She sucks in a sharp, gasping sound. "It's not fucking fair."

"I know." Alex's head is turning completely away from her, trying to hide the fact that she's about to cry. Piper touches her chin, making her look. "Do you wanna go home?"

"No," she sounds like a stubborn little girl, insisting she doesn't need to be sent to bed, even as she stubbornly blinks back tears. "No, we should stay. We should get more drinks."

"I'm not sure you need anymore."

"Fuck you," Alex switches over to anger just like that. "I'l get it."

She walks back to the table, taking short, unsteady steps. Piper follows helplessly, watching Alex lean across Beth to pick up the fullest margarita in sight.

A concerned hush replaces conversation at the table, and Beth gives Alex a concerned look. "You okay, hon?"

"I am _good,_" Alex declares firmly.

Beth's worried eyes meet Piper's, and she makes a face that's clumsily attempting to convey that she'll take care of it.

Alex brushes past her, jostling the margarita, but Piper grabs her arm before she can get back to the bar. Trying to sound firm, she says, "I'm going to call us a cab, okay?"

"I'll stay."

"You're upset - "

"I'm having _fun_."

"Al, you've barely even sat with everyone else - "

"That is because I don't want to _hear _it."

Piper frowns, confused. "You don't want to hear...?"

Slowly, heartbreaking, Alex's face crumples. "I don't like them...talking about my mom...and I don't know what they're talking about, I've never heard any of it before..." She disappears behind her hands as she starts to cry, hard; even now, as drunk as she is, Alex won't still won't let anyone see.

"Okay, okay...ssssh, it's okay..." Piper puts an arm around her, free hand pulling out a cell phone. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>Piper has to half carry Alex up the stairs to the apartment building, and they take four awkward steps inside before Alex falls onto the couch, face first; she lets out an irritated whine against the cushion. Piper's never seen her this drunk.<p>

Tapping back into instincts from her first few years of college, where she and Polly and their other friends seemed to take turns being the designated sloppy drunk, Piper brings a glass of water and a trash can into the living room.

She has to wedge herself into the tiny gap between Alex's prostrate form and the arm of the couch, then eases Alex upright. She groans in protest, but accepts the water when Piper instructs her to sip.

After a moment, Alex flops back on the couch, her face ashen and her eyes unfocused. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Piper gently smooths Alex's hair back. She can see her drifting out of consciousness, and Piper fights with herself for a few moments before saying softly, while Alex might not remember her asking, "What did you tell Fahri?"

She shrugs, looking up at Piper through half lidded eyes. "That I'd fly to meet 'em in three days. Somewhere. Germany somewhere."

_Three days_.

The reality of that slams into Piper, and for a second she can't catch her breath.

Alex claps a hand over her eyes. They're both quiet for a long, heavy moment, until Alex says with all the bluntness of a drunk confession, "They made me make you carry the suitcase."

Even Piper's blood stops moving. "What?"

Alex doesn't bother uncovering her eyes, mumbling impatiently, "Kubra didn't like that you were always around. Witnessing. Fahri said...I don't know."

"_What_, Alex? Fahri said what?!"

Alex makes an irritated face, shaking her head dismissively.

"Al, focus, _please__." _Piper grabs her by the arms, her heart pounding violently. "Fahri said what, that you had to...implicate me?" Alex nods impatiently. "And he _made_ you?" No answer; then, more urgently, Piper asks, "Why didn't you just tell me that?"

"I don't wanna talk anymore..."

"_Alex_. What about last week, when you asked me to go to Istanbul? Did they make you?"

"No. That was just me." Disappoint punches through Piper, but Alex only rolls her eyes. "Because you'd already _done_ it once."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Nothing. Piper repeats herself, voice edging toward panic, "Alex, _why_ didn't you just tell me when you first asked?"

Abruptly, Alex shoots forward, bending over the trash can and expelling bile and tequila.

"_Fuck_..." Piper grabs Alex's hair and holds it behind her neck; her other hand strokes Alex's back, instinctively soothing even as she curses the timing under her breath.

When she's emptied the contents of her stomach, Alex is still making harsh, gagging sounds, and at some point Piper can't pinpoint, they give way to sobs.

"Hey...what is it?" Piper asks. Her head is still reeling from Alex's bit of revisionist history, and she can't fathom that Alex is crying about anything else.

But then Alex chokes out something incoherent, and after asking her to repeat it twice, Piper finally hears the phrase _my mom_, and she forces herself to put everything else aside.

She pulls Alex into her arms, but Piper's only half present; she can't stop thinking about that Brussels drop, how it changed everything, how she could never quite see past Alex going back on her word and asking, how it had been one of the only things Alex had ever done that she _couldn't_ understand.

Except now she does.

And she has no idea what to do with that.

* * *

><p>Alex passes out asleep in the bed, barely past seven, and between the lack of sleep last night and the exhaustion of today, Piper's tired enough to follow her after only a few hours.<p>

She hasn't gone to bed so early since grade school, and she wakes up around five thirty, the sky still dark. Piper can tell right away that she's not going to be able to go back to sleep, and it's all she can do not to shake Alex awake and demand a sober explanation.

Instead she dresses quietly in the dark and leaves a Post-It note on her pillow that says _Gone for a run_. She just needs to be moving, to have something to _do_.

So Piper jogs a loop around the neighborhood until the sun finally joins her, the roads familiar from long ago bike rides. Piper had only been allowed to bring her bike to Alex's with a fight, and only on the condition that she not leave the apartment parking lot; it was an order they blatantly defied, walking much further than Piper ever would have been allowed at home, going on their own to the video store, the YMCA playground, or Friendly's.

Alex had this hot pink bike with streamers on the end and a white basket pasted with flowers; it looked childish even at nine years old, and it was girlier than Alex probably would have chosen at any age, but Diane had found it at a yard sale and Alex never seemed to mind. She'd fill the basket with snacks, tapes, and her Walkman, the headphones looped over the edge and turned to full volume.

Piper runs until her muscles are screaming from the unexpected overuse, until the paintbrush colors of the sunrise have given way to everyday sky. She sits down on a curb and wipes the sweat from her eyes, sick of crying but feeling it coming on for no singular reason.

When the tears become a real threat, she stands up and heads back toward the apartment, running even harder.

* * *

><p>Alex isn't in the bed when she gets back to the apartment, but it takes a second for Piper to hear the muffled gagging sounds coming from the bathroom.<p>

The door is slightly ajar, so Piper tentatively approaches. "Al? You okay?'

"Jesus fuck," Alex gasps out in a ragged voice.

Piper interprets that as an invitation to come in. Alex is on her knees on the floor, draped over the toilet; Piper perches herself on the edge of the tub, once again smoothing back Alex's hair. "Lotta tequila shots," she murmurs pointless. "And I don't think you ate anything all day."

"No shit..." Alex mumbles before her body lurches with a fresh dry heave.

Piper winces in sympathy. "I'll make us some breakfast...you need hangover food."

"That's usually my job."

"So I'll return the favor." Piper sits for a moment, absently passing the bunch of Alex's hair through her hands in continuous succession, contemplating the wisdom of asking Alex about the Brussels drop when she's in this position.

"You can go." As soon as the words are out of her mouth, Alex turns her head with what looks like great difficulty, squinting up at Piper through slitted, bloodshot eyes. "I mean, go start breakfast. I may crawl into the shower."

Reluctantly, Piper stands up. "Yell if you need anything."

It takes forty-five minutes before Alex emerges; her hair is wet and she's not wearing pants and she still looks wrecked, but least she's upright. "Sorry about last night."

Piper pushes a soda and a bottle of aspirin at Alex. "If you ever had an excuse to get good and trashed, it was yesterday. And this is from someone who's done it without an excuse."

"I wish I hadn't, though. I feel like I owed it to her to just...stay sad and sober." Before Piper can think of a way to respond to that, Alex asks, "Do I need to apologize to anyone?" Off Piper's confusion, she clarifies, "Beth? Anybody else there?"

"Oh, no. You barely even talked to them. Just kind of camped out at the bar." Piper watches carefully as Alex frowns. "Do you not remember?"

She laughs humorlessly. "Not really. The funeral I'm fucking crystal clear on, of course. Restaurant's kind of fuzzy."

Piper swallows hard, forcing a casual tone, "Do you remember what you told me? Last night?"

Alex's face pinches in confusion. "About...?"

She doesn't look at her when she says it. "That Fahri and Kubra made you tell me to carry that suitcase."

There's a long, weighty pause, and Piper keeps her back to Alex, stirring pancake mix at the counter. Then, in a flat, resigned voice, she hears, "Fuck."

Piper turns around. "Why didn't you just tell me in the first place?"

There it is, the question that's been clamped on her tongue all night long...and Alex ignores it. She pulls herself up to sit on the edge of the counter, brow furrowed in confusion. "What were we talking about? Why'd I say that?"

"_Damnit_, Alex." Piper's palm smacks the top of the counter, and Alex looks first startled and then annoyed by the outburst, but she doesn't know how many times she already refused to answer. "It's not my fault you decided to get black out drunk, I'm not giving you a full transcript." Alex jerks her eyes away, angry and embarrassed, and Piper feels a distant stirring of shame, but she shoves it aside. "You told me Kubra was worried about me witnessing everything, and that Fahri said you had to implicate me. So. Why the fuck didn't you just _say_ that when you asked, instead of giving some bullshit about how you guys were desperate?"

Alex looks back at her with an expression Piper recognizes, a mix of guilt and defiance, this maddening look Alex gets when she knows she did something wrong but is standing by it anyway. "Because I didn't want you to know Kubra had a problem with you being there. I didn't want to start talking about _witnesses _or _crime _because I figured you'd get too freaked out. I _always_ did that, Piper...I never wanted you to think of it that way. Like it was dangerous." Then, with the slightest bit of derision, she adds, "I knew it wouldn't take much for you to run."

Breathless, disbelieving laughter bursts out of her. "Are you _kidding_? That's the most fucked up logic I've ever heard..."

Alex rolls her eyes. "Right, you wouldn't have been at _all_ freaked out to hear that Kubra didn't like having you around."

"I was freaked out _anyway_, Alex! It didn't matter what the reason I had to do it was..." Piper stares at her, finally, fully realizing, "You _really_ don't understand how much that scared me, do you?"

"Oh, c'mon, Pipes - "

"No, of course, you don't. You're talking about wanting to keep me from thinking of it as dangerous, but believe me, I had plenty of time to think while I was on that plane, or standing on baggage claim while the suitcase _didn't show up_. I was very fucking aware of the danger - "

"I _told_ you, I would never let your name get dragged into anything. I'd have said I carried the goddamn suitcase - "

"Not just the dangers of it being _illegal_, Alex. What if the bag hadn't shown up? What if I'd gotten scared and bailed? You even said Kubra would have had me _killed - " _

"I was _joking_ - wait." Alex's eyes widen and she shoots Piper a startled, wounded look. "Do you _really_ think I would have let anything happen to you? _Ever_?"

Piper's eyes soften; choosing her words carefully, she says, "I think...you should know by know...that you can't control everything, Alex." Her throat narrows, and she gentles her voice, "You can't stop bad things from happening."

Alex's face tightens, but she doesn't look away. They look at each for a weighty moment, until finally Alex asks quietly, "Would it have made a difference?"

"What?"

"If I'd told you that from the beginning. Would that have really changed anything?"

"Yeah." Piper doesn't have to think about it. "Alex, you've done a _lot _of things I never wanted to understand. Joining the cartel, _lying_ about it, all that mess with the fucking heroin...but I _know_ you, I know the way you think, and it always ended up making some sort of sense. Even if I didn't want to, I ended up understanding. But this...I just didn't get. You'd promised to keep me out of it, and you went back on that, and it just _never_ made sense...and now I know why."

Alex's face gives away nothing as she absorbs this. "Well, now you know," she says eventually, and there's the barest hint of fetal hope in her voice that nearly does Piper in.

"Yeah. Guess so." Piper turns back to the counter, unable to keep looking at Alex, because she's scared she knows what's coming next.

It does.

"Fahri wants me in Germany in a few days."

"I know, you told me," Piper says flatly.

"I'm...looking at flights for Tuesday night. Should probably buy the tickets today."

It's not phrased as a question, but the plural dangles there. _Damn_ her.

She's going to make Piper say it.

"Alex...I can't go with you."

The declaration falls between them like a guillotine. There's an excruciating pause before Alex says bitterly, "So it doesn't make _that_ much of a difference."

"_Fuck_, Alex, that's not...if I'd wanted to leave just because of Brussels, I'd have left months ago."

"So, what? You stick it out through the funeral and now you're done?"

"That's not fair," Piper says softly. "This isn't news. You _wanted_ me here. And I _wanted _to be, Alex, you know that." She swallows hard, trying, "I _want_ to be with you. You aren't what I want to leave, but I can't take the cartel anymore. I can't keep living in hotels and waiting for you to have time off work."

Alex tilts her gaze toward the ceiling, huffing out a low, humorless laugh. "What the hell am I supposed to do with that?"

"Don't go." Piper's voice comes out breathy, desperate.

Alex closes her eyes, and Piper feels her own tiny embers of hope, trying to ignite.

And then Alex whispers, "Fuck you, Piper."

"What?"

Alex's eyes fly open, her face stony. "God, you are _so_ fucking predictable. You always do this, you know, try put the choice on me, like you aren't the one making decisions, but _don't _fool yourself here, Pipes. _I _may be the one getting on a plane, but _you're_ the one leaving. _You're_ ending this. I'm just going back to where I'm supposed to be, back to our life, the one we've been living for two years - "

"But it's not _our_ life, Alex! It's _yours_ !" The words hurl out of Piper before she can stop them. "I didn't have a plan, and the only thing I was sure of was that I missed you, so I just...followed you and waited around while you worked but...that meant I put off finding _anything_ for myself."

The momentum stalls, the fire in Alex's eyes cooling to ice. Her voice is quiet, pulled tight. "I didn't make you do that."

"I know." Piper's voice softens, the fight draining out of her. "It's not your _fault_, but...it's still true. It's still a problem."

Alex won't look at her. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Piper thinks of something Alex said to her back in college, during the fight that led to their breakup: _you want me to fit into your life_ _exactly the way it is now._

It hits her how long they've been doing this to each other, and suddenly she feels aching, bone deep exhaustion. Quietly, she asks, "Ever notice that it hasn't really been _our life_ since high school?"

Slowly, Alex lifts her head. "You're right." Her face is riot of pure loss. "So maybe it's time we both grow the hell up and stop trying."

Tears are clawing their way up Piper's throat, and she feels sick with panic. "Alex."

Alex vaults off the counter, crossing the apartment to the bedroom. All the life is drained out of her voice. "I've gotta empty out the apartment before I leave. You can help if you want, but...you don't have to stay."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_Clearly I was having some trouble with a split point for this one...but this ended up being the penultimate chapter. One more coming up, and then we're done with this one. _

_I think. Probably. There's always a chance there could be two more, with the last one being really short. I never know my stopping points until I get there._


	7. Chapter Six

**A/N: **_Decided to break up the ending...so there will be one more chapter after this one. _

Alex goes out to get boxes, but Piper stays behind in the apartment. She has no intention of leaving until Alex is really gone, like some ship captain, waiting to drown. So she stays, and she helps pack up the apartment, never mind that it feels like she's willingly blowing her heart to smithereens.

Alex is distant and withdrawn; she doesn't seem angry, but somehow the bare minimum of politeness she's giving is worse.

Piper stays in the kitchen, washing dishes and silverware and wrapping them in packing paper before stacking them in boxes to be taken to Goodwill. She leaves the postcards on the fridge.

Alex stays in the bedroom, and Piper leaves her alone for most of the morning, until lunchtime, when she finds her in the closet, crying into a stack of Diane's work uniforms.

"Alex?"

Piper reaches for her, but Alex shrugs away, lifting her face and holding up her hand. There's a smear of blood across the pad of her thumb. "I cut it on...on the nametag." It takes Piper a second to figure out what she means, but then she sees the red plastic rectangle with DIANE emblazoned on it, still stuck to a Wal Mart vest.

"Oh..."

"I don't know why the fuck she kept all these..."

"Do you...need any help?"

Alex is still crying, but there seems to be some sort of implicit order to pretend that she isn't. "You can go knock on the neighbor's doors, see if anyone wants a couch. And a coffee table. Fuck, offer the TV and computer, too, I don't care..."

"Okay," Piper agrees helplessly, but she doesn't make a move to go, just watches as Alex starts to painstakingly remove every name tag before tossing the shirts into a garbage bag. Finally, delicately, she tries, "Alex. Don't you think...this is maybe too soon?"

"What is?" She says it like Piper's question was stupid, like she has no idea what she could possibly mean.

"She _just_ died, Al. You don't have to do this now."

Alex grimaces, already turning away. "I'm leaving in _two_ _days_."

"So keep the apartment for a few months. The rent's _nothing_ to you, Al, and that way you don't have to deal with getting rid of half your mom's stuff the _day after her funeral_. Not to mention, you know, emptying out your childhood home."

"I told you," Alex's voice is dangerously quiet. "I don't care about this fucking apartment. I'm not keeping it, and I'm not coming back here."

Piper's chest constricts; the apartment has always been their home base, the one place they always come back to. Before Piper graduated, when Alex was traveling on her own, Diane's apartment had always been the thing that tethered her, kept her coming back home.

Now Alex is leaving with nowhere to come back to.

Feeble and pathetic, Piper tries, "Where are you going to keep all your stuff?"

"I'll rent a storage locker for Mom's records. Most everything else I can trash." Alex's voice comes out dismissive and flippant, but it's completely undermined by how carefully she's carefully stacking up a dozen pins with her mom's name.

Piper closes her eyes, hating this, sick at the thought of it.

This is what she's realizing: when Alex leaves this time, there will be nothing left tying them together. Not their hometown. Not Diane.

"Where do you think you'll go?" Alex asks suddenly, addressing the inside of the closet. Piper wonders if she's been following a similar train of thought.

"I don't know." She feels oddly embarrassed by her lack of plan; Piper knows she needs to figure out what she wants - other than Alex - but she doesn't feel any closer to knowing than she did her senior year of college. "Maybe New York...Polly's got a place in Brooklyn, working at some clothing store..."

Alex doesn't reply to that, just stuffs more clothes into the trash bag; one shirt, a Zeppelin one Piper remembers Diane wearing a lot around the apartment in the mornings, Alex throws into a small pile on the bed. She glances at Piper, still standing there uselessly. "Seriously, do you mind asking the neighbors about the stuff? I kind want to clear out the living room."

The crisp, focused demeanor is throwing her off, but finally Piper manages, "Yeah, I'll go door to door. But...are you sure about the TV and computer? They're pretty new."

"You can have them if you want," she says dispassionately. "But if not, yeah, try to give them away."

So that evening the two of them end up maneuvering the couch out of the apartment and two doors down, giving it to the second family Piper offered it to. Alex goes back to grab the coffee table, while Piper leans on the rail outside the apartment, wondering how Alex can just hand everything over so easily.

It's maybe dumb to be sentimental about a piece of furniture, but Piper's still feeling the effects of the funeral, and it makes everything feel wrought with poignancy and significance: she's hung up on the couch, how Diane slept there for at least ten years, just so Alex could have a bed and a bedroom.

Alex comes out of the apartment, dragging the coffee table, looking sweaty and frazzled. "Don't help or anything, Piper."

"Sorry." She grabs the other end of the table; even from opposite ends of the table, facing each other, Alex won't _really _look at her.

Piper puts the TV in the trunk of her car to give to Cal for his apartment at college; Alex rolls the computer down the hall to give to some other random neighbor.

"Did you need to save any files?"

"She's only had it for like a year. The only thing we're losing are her high scores at Solitaire."

Piper smiles a little at that, trying to catch Alex's eye, but she's not having it.

The living room looks empty and bigger than it ever has, and when she sees it Piper feels like crying.

Alex's face is blank as she walks over to the shelf with Diane's record collection, the only big thing left in the room, and starts picking up stacks, a dozen records at a time.

"Jesus, Al..."

"_What_?" Alex's voice is so loud, nearly a shriek, and for the first time Piper hears how close she is to losing it.

"You can slow down...you have all day tomorrow," Piper says gently.

"And I've still got to clear out the bedroom, and whatever the hell she was keeping in the basement storage space, so just...let me do this."

"Okay, you're right, I'll help you..." Placating, Piper grabs a few records, flipping through the sleeves, looking for familiar titles. "Remember when we alphabetized them, and we were so proud of ourselves, even though your mom already had them in a way more complicated order? Like genre or era or whatever it was." She pauses, but Alex doesn't respond. "But she still acted like it was awesome...we didn't figure it out until _months_ later when she finally moved them back the way they were." Alex keeps stacking records. Piper stops working, and without thinking Piper says, pleadingly, "_Alex_."

Alex drops the last of the albums into the box and shoots up, wild eyed. "_Stop_. I'm not going to do this. I'm not going to...pretend to be okay for you."

"I'm not asking you to - "

"Yeah, you kinda are. You want this to...to look and feel a certain way, and I can't...I just need to get it the fuck over with."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good." Alex turns back to the shelf; she seems thrown off to find it empty. She looks down at the boxes, packed full of record sleeves, and for just a second, her face folds in on itself.

"Alex?"

She turns abruptly, heading toward the kitchen and grabbing her keys off the counter. "Um...can you...can you take those to the car? Please?"

"Sure..."

"Just...in the trunk, okay?"

"Yeah. Of course."

Alex is already pushing past her, heading to the bedroom. Piper takes the boxes of records out to the car Alex bought Diane two years ago. It takes three trips. When she's done, she rests her chin on one of the empty racks, clenching her teeth and driving her fist over and over into the corner of the shelf.

Then she goes into the bedroom and finds Alex tossing cassettes into a garbage bag.

"What are you doing?"

"Tossing these."

Piper's heart leaps in panic. "Not to throw away, though, right?"

"Yeah, obviously to throw away, they're _tapes_. They're not worth anything."

Alex is throwing them one at a time, like she's drawing it out to do the most damage. "_Stop_ it."

Alex gives her a look like she's being crazy, an annoying little kid, and doesn't stop throwing tapes in.

Piper lets out a short, disbelieving laugh before lifting her chin, stubborn. "Fine, _I'll_ keep them."

Alex goes still. Then, she flicks the briefest flash of a glance at Piper, and slowly and deliberately unravels the cassette, unspooling a tangle of tape, jerking it out.

It's meant to hurt her, and it does. Tears rising, Piper asks thickly, "Why are you being like this?"

Whatever has been holding Alex together all day finally snaps.

"Because it's _all over_, Piper!" Alex drops the bag and rounds on her. "My mom is _dead_. You and I, we're done." For all her avoiding eye contact all day, now Alex's gaze is digging into Piper, pinning her: blown pupils behind a sheen of tears. "I just need to get out of here, she's _so gone_ here, Pipes, I can't stop thinking about it. I just want to leave, I want to _go..._but when I do, _you'll_ be gone. And I know it's not your fault, it's just _shit_ fucking timing, but it still _really_ sucks." Her voice cracks, and she pulls in a harsh, staccato breath.

Tears are rolling unchecked down Piper's cheeks. "I know." It's barely a breath. "I'm sorry."

Something empties out, between them. The quiet is punctuated by sharp breaths and stifled sobs, and it seems to go on forever.

"Don't throw those out yet," Piper says thickly after awhile. "I want...I need to go get something. To show you."

Before Alex can say anything else, Piper walks out of the apartment.

* * *

><p>She drives to her parents house; they're eating dinner, her mom and dad and Cal, and they act way too happy to see her.<p>

"Sweetheart, sit down, fix a plate...where's Alex?"

"She's packing up the apartment - "

"Already?"

"Yeah, I'm just grabbing some stuff, I can't stay."

Her mom looks genuinely disappointed, and Piper can't help but wonder how long this new attentiveness is going to last. "We really do want you to two to come over before you leave...when do you think you'll be leaving?"

"I...don't know yet." She's not sure why she can't just tell them, that she's not going anywhere, at least not out of the country. It would make them ecstatically happy but she can't bring herself to say it.

She heads upstairs. "Cal, I got you a TV."

"Sweet."

* * *

><p>Alex is lying in the floor of the empty living room, drinking from a bottle of whiskey. Piper hadn't thought there was anymore alcohol left in the apartment; she must have made a liquor store run when she went to get the boxes.<p>

The image slams into her so hard that it takes a second for Piper to realize there's music playing, softly: The Cure's _Disintegration. _She glances over; the boxes are still gone, presumably still in Alex's car, but she's obviously brought the record player back, and there's a stack of albums sitting on the otherwise empty shelf.

Alex follows Piper's gaze. "Those are for you. All The Cure ones."

It's the last thing she's expecting, and it knocks the wind out of her. "Are you sure? I don't even have a record player."

"Not really the point, Pipes."

"But they're your mom's."

"I know," Alex says simply. She looks up at Piper; her eyes are red. "What's that?"

Piper eases herself onto her knees beside Alex, putting down the stack of shoe boxes she'd brought with her. She frowns, not sure the best way to do this, and finally she just upends them all, scattering papers across the carpet.

Confused, Alex onto her stomach and grabs for the nearest torn out piece of notebook paper. She reads out loud, "Pipes, it's not technically sneaking in if they never _ask_ for my ID, and you know they won't. But it's playing at 7:45, so you'll have to skip watching our shitty team lose a football game, which I know you think is a tragedy..." She trails off, dropping the mindless, middle school note back onto the floor. She picks up another page, this time reading silently.

It's everything Piper had combed through the night Alex was in the hospital, plus all the postcards Alex had sent her while she was in college. Piper watches patiently while Alex picks through the pages. A few times she catches her almost smiling.

"I kept everything," Piper says quietly after awhile. "And I'm not going to go home and shred it all just because you're leaving. This is our whole life. It still matters, Alex."

Alex glances at her, face soft, but she doesn't say anything, just goes back to whatever she was reading. When she puts it down, she picks up an envelope, pulling out a letter. Confusion shadows her face. "What's this?" She looks up. "From my mom?"

"Oh..." Piper hadn't even thought about the letters. "Forgot about those."

Alex is scanning the floor; she picks up another envelope, and then one more. "She was writing you letters?"

"Yeah, just...you know after you were in the hospital, and you took me back to school...I didn't see her before I left. So I sent her a birthday card, and this really long, cheesy letter. And she wrote me back, totally making fun of me, saying that i sounded like I was never going to see her again." Only after she says it do the words knock the wind out of her, and just like she's crying. "And, um..." She can't talk. "Sorry..." Alex's hand covers hers, flat on the carpet, and stays there until Piper starts up again, "She said we could still talk, anytime, so...we wrote a few letters. Just every month or so."

"How did I not know that?" Alex is frowning at her. "When I was in town, I was the one checking the mail, so I could get to bills before Mom did. I never saw letters from you."

"Yeah, I kinda...sent them to her at work."

Alex's face scrunches in confusion. "Why?"

Piper looks down at her. "I didn't want to upset you."

"What does _that_ mean?"

"You said all or nothing, remember?" Piper says softly.

"Right..." Alex exhales heavily, pillowing her head across arms. The Cure plays softly in the background for awhile, and then she asks, "Do you wish we'd left it at that?"

"What?"

"At nothing." She lets that hover there, caught between them, and when Piper doesn't answer, she adds, "Do you wish I'd never called you?"

"_No,_" she's never sounded so sure about anything. "God, Alex, of course not. I missed you so much, at school...you calling was the best part of my day, every time, but especially that first time." Alex tilts her head, looking up her, soaking in how much Piper means it. After a moment of hesitation, Piper adds, "And I don't regret going with you to Bali."

Alex pulls a dark, skeptical face. "_Really_?"

"Yeah, really. Alex, I loved having adventures with you, I'd have _never_ seen anything like that on m own. And I loved being with you. I told you...you were all I wanted." Piper's eyes dim slightly. "But I needed something else, you know? I wasn't _doing_ anything. After a few days of exploring a new place, or as soon as you got busy...I was miserable. I was your pathetic, useless housewife. You know it's true. It felt like I was always just _waiting_...waiting around for you to have time for me, waiting for something bad to happen, I don't know." She's talking faster, half frantic, half defensive. "Maybe that makes me a hypocrite, because I wasn't complaining about the cartel when it was all scuba diving and shopping and partying all night. And, yeah, I knew what I was getting into, so maybe that's not fair. I just wasn't happy, Alex."

Alex's face is a wrestling match of emotions. After an eternity, she gives a tiny nod. "Okay."

Piper's voice catches. "But I _can't_ have you hate me."

"Dumbass." Alex bumps her elbow against Piper's knee. "I love you."

All the fiery defenses Piper had built up during her tirade are gone, leaving her weak with dread. "I love you, too."

Alex looks up, her eyes shiny and sad. She smiles. "You're the only one who does."

Piper's mouth flies open instinctively to refute that, but then she realizes it's true. She whispers Alex's name with her whole heart in her voice. Her fingers close around the front of Alex's shirt, and she tugs her close, kissing her with all that love she's not sure what to do with.

"Pipes...hey..." Alex murmurs against her mouth, too soon, pressing her forehead against Piper's. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

Piper rocks back on her heels, eyes widening. "No, you...you said Tuesday."

"I know. But there's a flight tomorrow night, so..." She gives a small, helpless shrug.

They look at each other. Sorrow is embedded in Alex's features, and Piper's thinking how people always talk about getting their heart broken, like it's something one person does to another; even the breaking is something Alex and Piper have always done together.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

Then they're kissing.

* * *

><p>"Pipes?"<p>

They're tangled together on the living room floor, after.

"Are you crying?"

"No."

She turns her face, hiding against Alex's collarbone.

"Piper..."

"Please don't leave."

It just slips out, trembling and raw with need.

Alex goes perfectly still beneath her. All Piper can feel is her heart.

Her voice is rough, thick with tears.

"Don't _stay._"

Piper lifts her head just enough to meet Alex's eyes.

"Love you."

"Love _you_."

Piper shakes her head, disbelieving.

"What are we going to do with it all?"

Alex doesn't ask what she means.

"Come here."

They kiss like the world's ending.


	8. Chapter Seven

**_A/N:_**_ Here we go, gang. Final chapter._

* * *

><p>That night, in Alex's ancient twin bed, Piper is lying on her side, half draped over Alex, who's flat on her back, eyes turned toward the ceiling. Piper wonders vaguely if they're going to take down the old, barely glowing stars before they leave.<p>

She can't stop thinking about this being the last night they'll spend in this room, in this apartment. Absurdly, it makes her dread falling asleep, like she doesn't want to miss any of it.

Alex hasn't given any indication that she's feeling the significance and finality of tonight, not whole time they've been getting ready for bed, moving silently around each other and a floor full of boxes and garbage bags.

But when the lights are out, Alex starts to talk.

"It really is crazy that we stayed here so long. Before here, nothing felt even close to permanent."

Piper nestles a little closer, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. "Yeah?"

"We got evicted a lot. Stayed with Beth a couple times...we were at her place for three weeks before we came here, actually."

Piper can feel Alex's chest humming as she speaks, but the words seem to be coming from somewhere above them, falling easily through the darkness.

"You know that thing my aunt said, about Mom living in a car with me?"

"Yeah."

"Well, we did. Live in the car. I was only a few weeks old the first time...that's what my aunt was talking about. We only moved here because it was near where Clara went to school. Mom had to practically beg her to stay in her apartment for a week, but she at least got some money together to give..."

Alex keeps going, unrolling years and years of stories. Piper's never heard any of this; they met when they were nine, too young to bother swapping life histories. And after awhile, any time before they met had always seemed hazy and irrelevant.

But now, Alex is telling her everything: nine years worth of moments when it was just her and her mom, before it was also her and Piper.

* * *

><p>Piper spends the next morning walking boxes down to the car so she doesn't have to watch Alex strip the band posters off her walls.<p>

After the last trip to load, she's barely stepped back into the apartment before Alex is in front of her, thrusting garbage bags into her arms. "Can you take these to the dumpsters?"

Piper nods, not wanting to think about what's in them.

When she comes back, Alex's luggage is stacked in the otherwise empty living room.

"What are you going to do with your car?" Piper demands abruptly, a note of a challenge in her voice, as if she's hoping to remind Alex of some detail she forgot, make her snap her fingers and realize she can't possibly leave today.

No such luck. "I can leave it in the parking spot here through the end of the month. Beth's going to come get it soon."

"Oh."

Piper watches Alex for a moment; she's wearing Diane's black Led Zeppelin shirt and her eyes won't stay still. She's running on a pure panic fueled flight response, like leaving town, leaving the _apartment_, will get her away from the oppressive fact that her mom is gone.

"Hey," Piper says gently, waiting until Alex's eyes land on her. "What do you want to do today?"

Their last day. Piper's not sure what she's hoping for, but it's not what Alex comes up with.

"I have to go work out the storage unit thing. And drop some stuff at Goodwill. And I should..." Her voice falters the slightest bit, the speed of her voice slowing. "I should leave for the airport around four."

Piper's stomach sinks; that's sooner than she thought. "You know I want to take you, right?"

Alex looks at her. "You sure?"

"Yes." They're quiet for a moment. "I just." Piper swallows. "I have this awful feeling like..." A nervous, breathy laugh jumps out of her. "Like I'm never going to see you again."

She waits for Alex to jump in, tell her how absurd that is. But Alex just turns her head, her face tightening.

Fear winds up the length of Piper's spine. She can barely get to the words; her voice comes out weightless: "You aren't coming back, are you?"

"I don't know."

"You aren't - "

"Piper, I _don't k__now_. That's the whole fucking point." Her voice is angry and too loud. "I'm going to Germany tonight, and after that I have no idea what's going to happen. Ever."

The truth of that crashes between them. Fear runs across Alex's face, just for a second, and then she turns away.

"I gotta go rent a storage space," Alex mutters. "Did you want to come?"

"I..." Piper swallows. "Yes."

"Okay."

"Okay."

* * *

><p>They take Diane's car, and Piper stays in the passenger seat while Alex takes care of the purchase. She reappears after about fifteen minutes, waving a key, and Piper dutifully gets out of the car and opens the trunk.<p>

Piper ducks her head to hide an unexpected smile when she sees the garbage bag of cassettes sitting on top of the records, saved from the trash after all; her one small victory.

It takes them several trips to stack everything into the small space, about the size of a good walk in closet. They leave behind the three boxes of albums, the tapes, a stereo and record player, two boxes of books, and a large plastic carton Piper doesn't remember seeing that Alex must have gotten from the apartment building's basement storage space. It seems mostly full of papers. Alex catching her looking, seems to debate something with herself, and then finally says, "I was looking through this last night...look..."

She pulls off the plastic lid, and Piper can see a lot of colorful construction paper among the stacks of documents, probably crafts Alex made in elementary school. Her fingers itch to pick through it, see everything Diane held onto. Alex, though, reaches purposefully for a stack of envelopes that's right on top, handing them to Piper.

"See? She kept your letters, too," Alex says quietly, offering that like a gift.

"Mmm..." Piper can't manage anymore than that, her fingers shaking slightly as she flips through the stack, thicker than she would have guessed.

"Anyway," Alex moves away from her. "You can keep those, probably don't want me reading them." Without taking a breath, she adds, "Ready to go?"

Piper nods mutely, clutching the stack of envelopes. She's trying to remember what she wrote; trying to remember how much of it was about Alex, if she'd told Diane about the nightmares she had about the hospital, Alex's overdose, if they'd talked about the shared worst night of their life.

She tucks the envelopes in her back pocket and follows Alex back to the car, wishing she hadn't thought of that night today.

* * *

><p>On the drive to Goodwill, panic starts to overtake Piper's good sense, and a litany of ridiculous, anxiety laced questions start spilling out, pushing Alex, searching for some sense of future.<p>

"What will you do for Christmas?"

"I don't know."

"I mean, you've got to come back to get the car at some point right?"

"Don't know, hadn't thought about it."

"If you got a new place here, what do you think, like...New York?"

"I don't know."

"Because I know Fahri goes there a lot, so couldn't you - "

"I _don't know," _Alex spits the words out. "I told you already, Piper, I have _no_ plan. And, you know what, I don't have to, because it's _just me_ now. Back. Off."

Hurt and anger rush through Piper at the same time, hot tears stabbing her eyes like darts. She twists away, staring out the window for nearly a full minute until the words themselves free from her throat, "Do you even _care_?!"

Alex doesn't pretend to misunderstand. Her knuckles go white on the steering wheel, and very slowly, with frightening seriousness, she pulls the car over and brings it to a complete stop before answering.

"I can't even begin to explain to you...how hard this is..." Her voice trembles, her face pinches, and it's like a switch flips, turning Alex's sadness on full blast, so loud and overwhelming that Piper's sorry she said anything. "I don't know how to do this. How to leave you. But I fucked up last time, I'm the one who couldn't stay away - "

"I didn't want to, either - "

"But you _did,_" Alex flings back in a strained voice. "_I'm_ the one the who started calling. I'm the one who showed up with a goddamn plane ticket. And then I made you miserable. So. This time...I'm not going to do that. I'm not going to come looking for you, I won't pull you back in. I'll let you go." She goes quiet for a moment, like she has to gather up the words. "But it is _breaking_ my fucking heart, Pipes." Her voice swells with tears. "And I can't _believe_ I can never talk to my mom about this. Ever."

Tears are dripping endlessly off Piper's chin, and for a second she lowers her head and cries into her hands, cries like a little kid. It makes her feel useless, that she can't do anything but fall apart. She's out of ways to comfort Alex. There's no making this easier.

Eventually she feels the car start up again, and they start moving forward.

Sniffling, Piper lifts her head, and chokes out, "What do you think she'd say?"

Alex glances over, red eyed. "My mom?"

"Yeah."

Alex is quiet for a long time. "I don't know," she mutters after awhile, but something in her voice makes Piper not quite believe her.

* * *

><p>They drive to Goodwill, throw bags in the donation bins without speaking, and then Alex starts driving again, taking turns and choosing backroads seemingly at random. Piper doesn't question her; she can tell what's happening, that Alex is just trying to use up time, not wanting to go back to the empty apartment.<p>

Diane's car is new enough that there's no tape deck, so they're stuck with the radio, keeping it turned down low. At some point, Alex asks if she's hungry, but Piper's stomach is in knots and she's felt nauseous all day, so she just shakes her head.

It's barely three in the afternoon when Alex finally seems to get sick of riding in circles. "We should head back. Get my stuff."

"Okay," Piper says dully. Part of her feels stuck in her own dread, wanting to put off the goodbye as long as possible, but another part just wants to get it over with; there's no comfort in the waiting, in still having Alex beside her. Even that hurts, now, and she can't take it much longer.

They pull Diane's car in her designated spot, outside the apartment, where it will stay until Beth comes to pick it up. Piper's car is parked in one of the guest spots; they'll take that to the airport.

Alex turns off the car but doesn't make any move to get out. After awhile, Piper prods softly, "Alex?"

"Can you, uh...would you go get my bags?" She shakes her head slightly, looking annoyed at herself. "I don't want to go back in there."

"Okay," Piper agrees. "I'll be right back."

"Toss down the key when you open the door, I need to drop it off with the landlord."

"Sure." They both get out of the car. Her whole body feels heavy as she walks up the stairs, glancing back at Alex, leaning against the car, waiting.

Piper unlocks the door, throws down the key, and steps inside.

She hasn't seen the bedroom emptied out, yet, but Piper can't help but take one last look. They'd left behind the bed and mattress, stripped of sheets, but Alex had pushed it to a corner of the room, out of the center. It doesn't look like Alex's room anymore. It could be anywhere.

Throat narrowing, Piper tips her head back, looking at the ceiling of stars, reminding herself where she is.

Piper turns away, back into the main room. Alex's luggage is the only thing there, stacked by the door; they'd dismantled the record shelf, thrown the metal pieces in a dumpster. The fridge stays with the apartment, the postcards gone from its door.

It's so hard to imagine Alex without Diane; Piper isn't even sure what that looks like.

Alex buys Diane a postcard every time they land at a new airport. Alex calls her mom every other day. Alex wanders shops and markets with an eye toward what she can buy and send Diane.

Piper keeps picturing Alex catching herself at those instincts - reaching for her phone because it's morning on the East Coast, or picking up a scarf that her mother would love - and then remembering.

She keeps picturing Alex remembering, over and over and over again, all on her own.

All at once, it slams into Piper, how much she's losing. This place. Diane. _Alex_.

Everything she's ever _chosen_ to love.

She's so fucking sick of crying, every time it gets harder and harder to stop, but she still ends up on her knees, sobbing her heart out in the middle of the stripped down apartment.

Piper's not sure how long she's been there when strong arms slip around her and suddenly Alex is there, holding on, kissing her neck, her tattoo, and saying her name over and over, whispering _Pipes_ and _Piper_ and _It's okay._

Then Piper fights her way out of the embrace to sit up and look at Alex, and in a rush she tells her, "I'm coming with you."

Alex's eyes widen. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah." Suddenly urgent, Piper thinks about every bored and frustrated feeling she had over the past year or so, and how none of it, even added all together, feels as bad as never seeing Alex again. "Yeah, I'm coming...I don't want you to let me go."

The very beginnings of a smile start to dance in Alex's eyes. "Really?"

"_Yes_. I love you. And this is so stupid, I'd just be...staying at my parents house, or crashing on Polly's couch with no job, alone, and you'll be alone in some foreign country..."

Alone in some foreign country with easy access to heroin. The thought shoots through her without warning, and only then does Piper realize what she's most afraid of: another long stretch of not seeing or hearing from Alex, a stretch that ends with another phone call, from God knows who this time, telling her the worst has happened.

Piper banishes the thought, continuing, "That's so fucking stupid, Alex. Why would we do that? No. I'm coming with you."

"Are you _sure_?"

"Yeah, of course I am."

Alex starts to grin at her, this old, familiar, _that's-so-Piper_ smile. "What about your stuff?"

"My luggage is in my car, I never unpacked it."

"You car - "

"We'll take a cab to the airport, I'll call Cal to come get the car. He still has the spare key."

"What about your parents?"

"I don't know, I'll call them from Germany, it doesn't matter."

Alex's smile opens up completely. "You're ridiculous."

Piper leans forward, resting her forehead against Alex's. "Ready to go?"

Alex closes her eyes, her fingers tracing the curve of Piper's jaw, as she sighs out, "I am now."

* * *

><p>After that, everything happens fast.<p>

They take Alex's luggage downstairs and get Piper's out of her car. She calls Cal while Alex calls a cab.

Piper leans against Alex for the whole drive, thinking of the ride to the airport in Paris - only a week ago, unbelievably - the way Alex had barely seemed present. Now Alex is playing absently with a strand of Piper's hair, winding it around her finger, and it makes Piper feel weak with relief.

The rest of it feels familiar. It takes Alex awhile to sort things out with the tickets, giving up her first class seat and getting two in coach, so by the time they go through customs and security and get to the crowded gate, they end up having to sit on the floor, leaning back against the tall airport windows.

Piper closes her eyes and rests her head on Alex's shoulder, the looping announcements and distant roar of planes a familiar lull in the background. She hasn't gotten very far in her head, hasn't started to think about tomorrow or anything beyond that; she's just focused on what Alex said, about how she doesn't know anything that's going to happen. That can be true for both of them. Piper doesn't need to figure it all out right now.

Right now, all she knows is that she can't tell Alex goodbye.

The plane starts boarding, and they both start slightly at the first class call, instinctively used to it. But they settle back down to wait, holding tickets stamped with Zone 4.

Finally their boarding call crackles over the speaker, and Piper pulls herself to her feet, slinging her carry on bag over her shoulder.

She's taken three steps in the direction of the gate before she realizes Alex isn't beside her.

Piper turns around, tilting her head in confusion; Alex is still sitting on the floor, staring past Piper at the boarding lane, face twisted in indecision. Piper kicks the bottom of her shoe. "What are you doing, let's go."

Alex lifts her face to look at Piper. "You can't come with me."

Piper blinks down at her, then lets out a soft, scoffing sound. "Yeah, that's hilarious, Alex. Get up."

"I mean it, Pipes." Alex's expression is pained. "You're not coming."

Something is twisting unpleasantly in Piper's chest. She can't make sense of this. Above them, the loudspeaker repeats the invitation for Zone 4 to board. "What are you talking about? You begged me to come."

"I didn't _beg_."

_God_. As if that's what matters. Piper suppresses an eyeroll. "You said _don't stay_. And I'm not."

Alex grimaces, running her hands through her hair. "_Fuck_, Piper. You told me you were _miserable. _That you weren't happy." She gives her a beseeching look. "What kind of person would I be..." She shakes her head angrily.

"Alex..." Piper's heart is thundering in her chest, her blood running too fast. She drops down on her knees, kneeling in front of Alex to look her in the eye. "I am _going_. It may not be forever, but..I'm _not_ sending you off alone right now."

Alex makes a combative face, standing up to break eye contact. "I'm fine - "

"You're _not__." _ Piper stands, too. "You're not anywhere close to okay yet, Alex, and you shouldn't be. Your _mom died_. A week ago. And I want to be with you right now." _  
><em>

Alex's eyes flare. "You keep saying that, _right now..._I don't want to just sit around and wait for you to leave again."

"We don't know what's going to happen," Piper throws back. "That's what you said, right?"

For a second, Alex's face threatens to collapse, and she closes her eyes, staying quiet as an announcement calls all remaining passengers to board the plane. She clenches out in a small, agonized voice, "I _can't_ be the reason you're unhappy."

"I'll be unhappy without you," Piper tells her, honest and desperate. "And I'll definitely be unhappy when I'm _constantly_ worrying how you are."

"It's not your job to worry about me."

Piper shrugs, feeling the sudden threat of tears. "Someone has to."

Alex's eyes fill up. Her face is caught between gratitude and frustration, but the latter seems to win out; a low, desperate growl curls out of her throat.

_This is the final boarding call for Flight 723..._

The announcement sits between them, a ticking clock, and Piper looks at Alex: a patient, waiting look.

"You can't," Alex says finally, definitively. When Piper just shrugs, the conviction fades a little, and Alex just looks tired. "_Please_. I don't want you to."

"Yes you do," Piper counters calmly. "I'm with _you_, Alex. You're welcome to walk on the plane by yourself, but I'll be right behind you."

Alex looks over her shoulder; the boarding lane is clearing out.

She turns back to Piper, and when she blinks it sends tears spilling over, coasting slowly down her cheeks, but her lips curve into a tiny, exasperated smile. "I told you you always do this. Make me make the choice."

A sob rises in Piper's throat, but she smirks around it. "I made a decision, Alex. You're the one fighting it."

_This is the final boarding call_...

Alex drops her carry on bag and sinks back into the floor, groaning softly. "Jesus Christ..."

Terrified, disbelieving hope erupts inside Piper. She puts her bag down and slowly lowers herself to sit beside Alex again, instinctively reaching over to brush away the tears on her face. Alex leans into the touch, sighing exhaustively.

When the flight attendant disappears down the jetway, locking the door, leaving the desk abandoned, Piper drops her head onto Alex's shoulder.

"Alex, is this even...okay?" Piper asks tentatively after awhile. "I mean...are you allowed to just not show up?" She doesn't dare say _quit_, not yet. She's still not sure what this means.

"Who the fuck knows?" Alex says, letting out a disbelieving, off the reservation sort of laugh. The sort of genuinely amused laugh of someone embracing absurdity. "Guess I'll find out."

They're quiet for another moment. Piper doesn't dare turn around to watch the plane taxi away from the terminal.

Without warning, Piper blurts out, "You know the apartment's completely empty, right?"

"I do know that," Alex replies calmly.

"Okay." Piper goes quiet again, but she can't seem to help herself, breaking the silence to point out, "And you know we checked a lot of bags..."

Alex tilts her head back and groans. "Stop talking, Pipes."

"Sorry." Piper hides a smile against the shoulder of Diane's jacket. Alex's jacket.

They stay where they are. Eventually, Piper hears a plane rushing toward takeoff. Maybe theirs.

Suddenly, she feels Alex starts to shake underneath her, and Piper lifts her eyes, expecting the worst.

Alex is laughing. Full scale, crinkled eyes, openmouthed _laughing_.

"We're so fucked," Alex says between breaths, sounding entirely certain but not altogether displeased by the fact.

Piper can barely get her reply out around the smile spreading across her face. "We really are."

Giddiness and disbelief and nerves collide madly in Piper's chest, bubbling out in a series of uncontrollable, delirious giggles, and soon she's falling inside this moment, inside the wonderful, familiar sound of her and Alex's laughter mixed together.

They calm down after awhile. Piper feels Alex take her hand.

She looks over, her eyes grabbing Alex's and holding on. "You want to go?"

Alex's eyebrows shoot up. "Go _where_?"

Piper realizes she has no idea.

At the same time, they both start laughing again.

"_So_ fucked."

"I know."

Piper is twenty-four years old. Definitely unemployed and possibly homeless. She has no idea what's going to happen next.

But she knows she chose Alex, and that Alex chose her back.

So Piper kisses her, just because she wants to. Just because, at this moment at least, she still can.

The kiss feels like a free fall.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_So that's a wrap on this one, y'all. _

_This fic was written to be the last one (of the main, chronological fics) in the Young Blood 'verse. That's not necessarily set in stone - I've got verrrrry early notions of what one more could look like, but it's vague and undeveloped enough that this could be it. I also have a thing for ambiguous but hopeful endings. If nothing else, though, this will be the last chronological fic for awhile._

_Everyone's responses to this 'verse have been overwhelming to say the least. I've never had a series before, and I wasn't anticipating Young Blood turning into one, but I've adored writing it. I do have more planned for the verse...a Diane POV perspective on YB (likely a oneshot, vignette style) is in the works, as is a oneshot focusing on Middle School!Alex. And I'm always open to any excerpts and deleted scenes. So no worries, this door isn't closed. But for now, I'd loved to hear what you thought of this one. _

_Soundtracks and writing playlists and some other stuff (Halloween YB excerpts that I never posted here) are all on the "young blood" tag in my tumblr. Username alxvse. Thanks for reading! 3 _


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